


Another Way

by eievuiisms



Series: Another Way verse [2]
Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Canon Rewrite, Comedy, Exes, M/M, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Psychological Horror, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, does contain references to other s&m fics of mine but none of it's important it's more just fluff, in this house we have fun & bend canon to fit our own needs, vERY canon divergent lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 162,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eievuiisms/pseuds/eievuiisms
Summary: In this retelling of The Devil's Playhouse, Sam and Max have been dating for nearly 15 years but have had a suffering relationship for quite some time which ends in a messy break-up. Before they even have a chance to get settled with this new reality, an alien spaceship arrives on Earth, forcing them to work together as Freelance Police for what may be their final case.(Special credit to calliepeepers for co-writing the AU & beta reading!!)[WARNING: Does contain themes of depression/suicidal thoughts in later chapters (I.E. Events of 'Beyond the Alley of the Dolls' & 'The City That Dares Not Sleep'), as well as horror elements that some readers may find disturbing. Please be cautious while reading!!]
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max), they're broken up for most of it but the feelings are very much still there
Series: Another Way verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871665
Comments: 33
Kudos: 151





	1. The Breaking Up Point

**Author's Note:**

> If you're new here, then you should totally watch the trailer that comes with this before proceeding!! It can be found right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGnmMJLkqss&feature=youtu.be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Max's relationship has been suffering for years. Between Sam's ignorance to Max's problems and Max's increasingly frequent tendency of lashing out, they eventually find themselves having an argument they never thought they'd have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i purposely post this on the 10th anniversary of the devil's playhouse?? yes. yes i did

The lock to the office door clicked upon being unlocked, the door swinging open then closed shut once the dog and lagomorph had entered. While Max continued walking, Sam took a moment to remove his jacket and hat, placing it on the coat rack next to the door. “Well, it certainly wasn’t my cup of tea,” he spoke as he did so, referring to the social gathering they had come from at the request of the Commissioner, “But at least the food there was nice, right?”

“Uh-huh,” was all Max replied, his tone sounding more flat than normal.

This, of course, caught Sam’s attention, and where he might have once been confused and almost concerned, this sudden mood drop of Max’s was hardly a surprise given the increasing amount of tension in the past few weeks. Thus he was more inclined to react with a frown and a slight furrow of his brows. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, managing to keep his tone calm.

Apparently that wasn’t the right way to ask how Max was feeling, because the lagomorph’s response was, “Gee, Sam - I’m just not quite sure! Seems a lotta people think there’s somethin’ wrong with me, but y’know, I just can’t figure out what it is myself.”

“Maybe I should rephrase.”

“Oh no, you phrased it right-” _Here comes the sarcastic, bitter remark_ , Sam thought. “-And thank you, by the way, for the support out there. Really appreciate it,” Max said, sarcastic and bitter.

_Called it._ Sam turned to face Max who he could see clearly was pacing, indignation lining his body. “You seemed like you were having fun, what happened?”

Max stopped mid-step to shoot him a glare. “I _seemed_ like I was having _fun?_ ”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting you to complain the moment you got home.”

He scoffed at that. “I bet you didn’t hear a _single_ thing any of ‘em said t’ me tonight,” he muttered, resuming his pacing.

“What did they say?” the dog inquired, unable to help the slight sigh in his voice.

“Well it doesn’t matter _now_ , does it? It’s not like anything can be done about it!”

“That’s not true. If it bothers you that much, I could probably get in touch, chat with ‘em about it-”

“Oh, now _that_ would be something.” He pantomimed a phone using his hand, and said in a mimicking tone, “ _Yes, ma’am, hello - I heard you said some unprofessional things the other night about my partner. Please refrain-_ ” His voice returned to normal, and he threw his hands up. “Like _that’s_ gonna do any good!”

“I’m just sayin’ - it’s still something.”

“Yeah, well it’s _pointless_.”

“Could ya’ just tell me what they said?”

“It’s all the same crap as always!”

“That’s very specific, thank you,” he muttered.

“ _Everyone_ says the _same things_ ALL the _time_ , Sam!” _And here comes the whole ‘everyone’ talk_ , the dog thought cynically. “Maybe if you bothered to open your ears-” he put his hands behind his own, pushing them forward slightly to emphasize his point, “-I wouldn’t have to _tell_ you what they said all the time!”

“You don’t have to repeat what they said ‘all the time’. I listen plenty - you’re just getting upset over this one instance-”

“No I’m _not!_ ” Max stopped in his pacing to stomp a foot. “You _don’t_ listen! No one ever does!”

“Then what am I doing right now then, huh?”

“Don’t be a smartass! You’re not actually _listening_ , but you’re just _patronizing_ me!”

“You didn’t have a good time, you left feeling disrespected, you get angry. I try to help - which, by the way, is _really hard_ when you won’t _actually_ tell me what’s wrong - and then you-”

“I _did_ tell you what’s wrong, I just-!”

“And _THEN_ you-” he interrupted, repeating himself, “-just go and shut down- no, _mock_ my idea.”

“Because your idea _sucks!_ ”

“Then you must think all of them suck, ‘cause you never wanna listen to any of ‘em.”

“‘Cause you're just not _getting_ it-”

“ _What_ , Max? What am I not getting?”

“I’m not some _puzzle_ for you to solve! It's not some riddle to see how fast you can calm me d- I can't just _be angry_ when I’m talking to you, you always have to give me a reason I shouldn't be-”

“That's just it - you _always_ wanna be ‘just angry’! You don't actually _want_ help - you just wanna rant and rave and take it out on _me!_ ”

“ _Ugggh!_ ” Max groaned loudly, tugging at his ears in frustration. “You don't _understand!_ You don't even _try_ to-”

“Oh, yeah, I've known you for over three decades, but I just don't understand. Just like _eeeveryone_ else.”

“I didn't say tha-”

“And I don't try at all. I just _don't care_ , right? Never mind that I try to help and you just tear me down for it-”

“Shut _up_ , I didn't say that! Stop putting-”

“You don't _have_ to say it, ‘cause everything else you say when you’re pissed says it already-!”

“Stop putting _WORDS_ in my goddamn mouth! _This_ is what I’m talking about with you not trying-”

“I _AM_ trying, Max! It’s just never _enough_ for you! You don’t even _care_ if you insult me in the midst of your raging-”

“What the hell, I don’t insult you-”

“Yes you do! You insult me every time you don’t listen to me-”

“With that logic, you’re insulting me too-”

“For the past three weeks all you’ve done is treat me like your friggin’ _emotional punching bag_ and I’m so SICK of it!”

“Yeah, well I’m sick of _YOU_ always treating my problems like they’re some _inconvenience-_ ”

“Then why don’t you just leave!?”

There was a heavy silence that hung in the air. Max blinked, looking almost as if he had been physically struck. The lagomorph remained quiet, waiting for some indication that he didn’t actually mean that - and his ears eventually drooped slowly against the back of his head when he realized it wasn’t coming. “...Are you serious?”

Sam’s genuinely angered expression shifted then, his own words beginning to sink in. For a moment, he looked as if he was going to take back his words - then he shut his eyes, furrowing his brows and sighing through his nose. “I can’t keep doin’ this, Max. I can only take so much.” He opened his eyes and looked directly at his partner of nearly fifteen years, and said, “If you’re really _that_ dissatisfied with the way things are - with _me_ \- then...you should go.”

Max stared at him with wide eyes, almost in disbelief that this was actually happening, but it eventually melted into one of anger and hurt. “...Fine,” he said quietly, his voice shaking slightly. He raised it as he continued; “You want me to go!? _FINE!_ I don’t need t’ put up with your BULLCRAP, _ANYWAY!_ ” With that, the lagomorph stormed past Sam (to which Sam purposely leaned away, knowing Max would purposely bump him otherwise) and towards the door. The dog didn’t turn around as he heard it swing open and slam behind him, the slapping of his feet gradually growing more distant. The heavy silence returned as he stood there in that small apartment alone.

He wished he could say this was the first time he was going to bed without Max - but truthfully, it had been a few months since they shared a bed. However, the fact that Max wasn’t even in the apartment was still enough to leave him lying awake and staring at the ceiling.

He had not really wanted to tell Max to go like that - not truly. And why would he? This had been the same guy he had swept away to college with him because he couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him. And then somewhere along the way, they grew bitter, resentful - and now...they were broken up. Just like that.

However, he knew that this had to be done. It was toxic, to keep remaining in a relationship out of- obligation? Well, they certainly weren’t doing it out of politeness, that was for damn sure. It was better they split off.

...He just wished he could figure out what went wrong.

He sighed deeply through his nose, turned on his side and grabbed the other pillow - which, despite the tears in it, hadn’t been used properly in a while. He curled himself around it, and though he attempted to fight his fluttering eyelids, eventually exhaustion overtook him and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

When he awoke the next morning, he felt like something was...off. His brows furrowed in confusion and he sat up, looking around. It felt like the room was...vibrating? At first it seemed like a light trembling, but it was growing more and more noticeable - and was that an _engine_ he was hearing outside?

“What the-” he quietly began to say while getting up from the bed, before cutting himself off with a surprised yelp as vibrations suddenly grew harsher, resulting in him falling onto his hands and knees. He put a hand on the bed to try and stand himself back up - and moved one of his feet away just in time to avoid having it be crushed by the dresser that decided to fall over towards him.

“Max!?” he called out of instinct, oblivious to the sound of cracking beside him, before pausing. “...Oh, wait- OH!” He’d caught sight of the window breaking just in time to cover his head with his arms as the glass shattered, scattering over him and onto the floor. Once he felt there were no more shards falling, he promptly climbed on and over the bed to avoid accidentally stepping on the broken glass, and, keeping to the wall for balance, made his way to the bedroom door.

The roaring of an engine was beginning to grow louder - deafening, even - but Sam was far from noticing that. He was more focused on how the office was falling apart - the windows were cracked in there as well, some of the wooden planks boarded on them had fallen off, the TV fell from its makeshift stand onto its side, its screen cracking and sparking upon impact, the filing cabinet fell over, scattering papers everywhere, and-

“Oh, nonono-!” He quickly moved to catch a couple of framed pictures before they fell, practically sliding onto his knees to do so-

And then the shaking stopped, and so the pictures stopped swinging. Sam eyed them for a moment before giving a relieved sigh-

_THUD!_ The whole apartment shook once violently, and the pictures fell before Sam even had a chance to catch them.

“Aw, no!” he protested, looking at the scattered glass and busted frame, plucking one of the pictures - one of him and Max during their little motorcycle trip - out from the little mess. “Come on…”

His ears perked at the sound of some creaking behind him, and he turned to see what it was. Not a moment later, he witnessed his floor cave in and collapse, his already busted couch proceeding to fall with it. There was a crash of wood and plates along with an alarmed cry. Sam abandoned the picture and moved to peer into the new gaping hole in his apartment floor with a grimace, discovering that his couch had gone and rudely interrupted some poor residents’ morning meal.

He straightened up and looked around at the full damage that had been done - almost everything had been knocked over except for the coat rack that still held his hat and jacket from the night before, his work desk and the small desk which Max had carved into. After his lookaround, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. He moved back to the broken pictures and gathered them up, moving towards his work desk with the intention of placing them in a specific drawer - then caught something in his peripheral outside of the window that made him look over, his eyes widening in surprise. He moved closer to the window to look out of it, and-

“Sweet 60s sci-fi by Franklin J. Schaffner!”

What he witnessed outside that shocked him was what he could only describe as a large, gorilla-like spaceship.


	2. Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam just wants to clean up the mess the ship caused and go about his day. Max, however, has suspicions of this 'General Skun-ka'pe' character - and with good reason.

Essentially being kicked out (though he, with his stubborn pride, would claim that he _stormed_ out) was not as big of an issue for Max practically speaking, because he had somewhere else to go. And given that he was President, it was a pretty damned good residence to go to after a messy break up. Even had a chauffeur to take him there! Now, the emotional rollercoaster that transpired once he _got_ there would not be disclosed and would be kept a secret of his own, but to put it bluntly, it was angry, violent, and he may have smashed a window.

But he was fine! After a good night’s sleep, he’d already gotten over last night! Today was a fresh start, and he was sitting at his awesome desk with his big ol’ rabbit feet propped up, leaning back in his chair. The phone rang, and for the first time since - well, since Hell froze over, he supposed - he got to answer it without any interference. “ _Heeello_ ,” he greeted lightheartedly, with a slight air of superiority. “This is the _President_ speaking-”

“ _I know this is a_ really _bad time_ ,” came Sam’s voice on the other end, making Max’s ears twitch in surprise and aggravation. “ _But-_ ”

The phone clattered against the receiver as Max hung up on him. The lagomorph leaned back in his seat again. And then the phone rang again. And he picked it up again.

“ _This is actually important, could you plea-_ ”

Hung up again.

As he was about to lounge again, his favourite agent (and probably favourite _person_ currently) entered the room. “Sir, do you have a moment?” Superball asked in his usual monotone.

“Of course!” Max responded, his lightheartedness remaining despite the _rude_ attempts to ruin his day just then. “What is it, my _dearest_ and _lovely_ friend?”

“There’s been an extraterrestrial sighting on Straight & Narrow-”

The lagomorph blinked in surprise at the street name, and his smile faded with said surprise. “Come again?”

“A spaceship, sir. Several reports from residents there just came in. Shook the whole neighbourhood.”

“...Huh.” So _that_ was what _he-who-shall-not-be-directly-referred-to-by-name_ was calling about. After letting that sink in for a moment, he found himself shrugging and kicking back once more. “Alright, then, thanks for mentioning it. Go do…” He waved a hand, “Whatever it is you need to do.”

“That’s just it, sir - you’re required to come with me.”

“Say what now?”

“It’s considered a Presidential matter. First contact - whatever you wish to call it. But you’re required to be there.”

“...Ah.” He slowly removed his feet from the desk and stood up from his chair. “Very well,” he said a sigh, trying to sound _somewhat_ professional. “If I must.” Pause. “...Do I _have_ to?”

“Yes, sir.”

Max groaned, annoyed that he apparently couldn’t get out of this. What was the point in being President if he was still _required_ to do things? “ _Fiiine_. Let’s get this done and over with.”

. . .

After being hung up on for a second time (and slamming the phone back on the receiver with a frustrated cuss), Sam had gotten dressed and decided to do what everyone else in the building was doing and made his way outside. One of the first unfortunate things he’d noticed was the fact that half of Sybil’s building ended up being crushed underneath the weight of this otherworldly vehicle. He decided to weasel his way into the remains of the building, being mindful of easily collapsible debris, and try to salvage what items he could from her workplace. It was the least he could do given she was still on her honeymoon and thus would be coming home to bad news (though, he supposed that was bound to happen eventually when one’s honeymoon was lasting thirteen months).

He was making his way out with his third armful of things towards the DeSoto when he’d heard the sound of a car approaching, making him turn his head. The source of it was a black car, and after it stopped across the street, out stepped Superball and- “Oh,” Sam mumbled, ears drooping. He watched Max exit the car, looking at the spaceship as he did so, then turning to Superball to say something before shaking his head and turning back to what he was doing. He placed the items he had carefully in the back seat of the DeSoto next to the other items he already had in there. As he was placing Sybil’s office phone in there, he heard that all too familiar sound of feet slapping against the ground.

“If you wanted to talk that badly, maybe you should’ve _started_ with the alien spaceship,” Max said, suddenly next to the dog while he was leaning over the vehicle’s side.

“My mistake,” was all Sam muttered.

There was a small pause. “...Funny, that looks like Sybil’s clock,” he commented, referring to the orange cat clock Sam had tucked under his arm.

“‘Cause it is.” He gave a nod towards the ship.

Max followed it, and grimaced upon seeing the damage. “Oh. It does, uh...look really bad at this angle, doesn't it?” Sam grunted. “Did you tell her yet?”

“‘Course not.” He put the clock in the back seat. “I figured I’d wait for her to come back, break the news and give her a gift basket to soften the blow. Maybe throw in a ‘sorry for your loss’ card.”

The lagomorph nodded. “Commiserating yet classy.”

Sam stood up straight and, for the first time since the other showed up, turned to face his now ex-boyfriend. “What are you even doing here? I thought you weren't coming.”

“Well, if you _must know,_ ” he said, that air of superiority more apparent than it was over the phone, “As President, my presence is required to be here as to handle this _intergalactic_ situation.”

“Well, God bless America,” Sam replied, sarcastic and unimpressed. “Don't let me get in your way, then.” Max frowned, and he was about to say something, and Sam was about to leave towards Sybil’s building again. The only reason he stopped was because Superball had approached, and he decided to smile at the agent and greet him with, “Hey, Superball.”

“How are you this morning, sir?”

“Not too shabby, thank you very much for asking,” he replied happily, noticing Max in the corner of his vision rolling his eyes.

“Have you seen anyone or anything exiting the ship?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, no.”

“That's not sayin’ much,” Max muttered, crossing his arms.

“Other than the mini earthquake it caused, it’s been quiet pretty much all morning,” Sam continued, ignoring the comment.

“Very well. Thank you, sir. Feel free to carry on about your business.”

“Will do.” Without looking at the lagomorph, he walked past him and towards Sybil’s building again.

Max shot a glare at his back after he passed by, then looked over at Superball when he said, “I’ll be over by the spaceship, sir. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He watched the agent go towards the spacecraft before turning his attention to the entrance of his- _Sam’s_ apartment building, which by this point had yellow caution tape crossing it off. He was tempted to go in and check out the place - just for the sake of seeing the potential destruction that may have been made in there - and did actually start walking towards it, but-

“Whoa,” he said under his breath after stopping very suddenly in his tracks, a sense of vertigo hitting him out of nowhere. He stumbled slightly to his left - which happened to be the direction of the alleyway beside the apartment building. His body almost seemed to go on autopilot - he was moving, yet it felt as if someone else was doing it for him and he was simply taking the backseat - and he was moving towards the alleyway without thinking or questioning why. He entered the alleyway and then stopped, swaying slightly. He looked down, and at his feet there was an orange, plastic object - a toy.

Slowly, he bent over and picked it up - and felt a surge of energy flow right through him from head to toe, making him tremble hard. This lasted only a matter of seconds, and once it ceased, he started looking over the object in his hand. It appeared to be a sort of viewfinder - its lense had a slight chip and it appeared to be a little grimy, but other than that, it looked as if it should still work. And with that last thought, the lagomorph found him putting it up to his eyes-

_Inside the ship in a cell with Sam a space ape destroying NYC an alien brain reading minds opening a portal turning into a plant teleporting turning into a bazooka firing-_

He removed the viewfinder from his eyes with a gasp, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. He blinked his eyes several times, rubbing them with the back of his hand and finally shaking his head to get rid of the buzzing he felt. “What the hell…?” he mumbled, looking over the viewfinder. Even after he’d processed what he saw, he still wasn’t _quite_ sure what it was.

His ears straightened at the sound of something whirring, and quickly left the alleyway and looked towards the gorilla-esque spaceship, which now had a ramp lowered to the ground. And stepping out of it was...a gorilla. Go figure- oh _wait_ , that was the same one from the vision he’d just had, wasn’t it? In the vision, he’d been _pretty_ bad news...Although the idea of going into a possible case alone was mildly tempting, he was willing to realize that acting as if doing it alone was his only option might be a mistake. After all, Sam was right th- oh, Sam was about to get in the car, oh n-

“Hey!” Max called as Sam was opening the car door, making the dog pause and look up. The lagomorph glanced towards the- okay, good, Superball was greeting him first. Perfect. He looked back and saw Sam swing open the door fully, prepared to get in. He moved quickly towards the DeSoto, coming around so that he was on the driver’s side right as Sam had seated himself and shut the door. “Wait, where the hell are ya’ goin’?” he asked, resting his paws on the edge.

“Where do ya’ think? I gotta drop off Sybil’s things.” He turned the key in the ignition, the car’s engine rumbling to life.

“Oh, c’mon - an alien lands in your front yard, and you’re not the _least_ bit interested in what he has to say?”

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen an alien.” He was putting on his seatbelt now.

Max’s grip on the car tightened, almost half-tempted to leap into the car and try to physically drag him out. “ _Sam_ ,” he practically growled, ears pinning back slightly.

Sam flashed him a hardened look. After a few moments of staring, however, he realized _something_ must have been up. Max might have been too proud to admit to what it was, but he had no reason to urge Sam to stay. And maybe he should’ve stuck to his guns - told his _ex_ to forget it and leave - but damn him, for the mild concern he felt for this sudden shift in behaviour outweighed his desire to be stubborn. He sighed, shut off the car, undid his seat belt and opened the door, making the lagomorph let go and back away. “Fine,” he replied, deadpan, standing up and closing the door behind him. “Two minutes, then I’m out.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just come on-” Mid-sentence, Max was walking towards the agent and the strange space gorilla, and Sam - hesitant though he was - followed.

When the lagomorph was within range, Superball spoke to the recently arrived alien; “If I may formally introduce you to the President of the United States of America. Mr. President-” the agent turned to Max, who reacted with a straightening of his ears and posture. “General Skun-ka’pe.”

The one by the name of General Skun-ka’pe flashed a smile that would have been pleasant if not for the rather _unpleasant fangs_ that were bared when he did so. “It is an honour to be meeting with you,” he said, offering a hand.

Though _very_ much suspicious, Max managed to put on a toothy smile of his own (in fact he _purposely_ made sure his teeth were visible), shaking his hand firmly. “Yes, it certainly is!”

“And-” Skun-ka’pe looked to Sam, looking as if he was about to offer a hand out to him as well. “You are…?”

“Unaffiliated,” was Sam’s response - and hey, Max was glad _he_ said it for him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and added, “And not a handshaker.”

“Ah, that’s quite alright,” he gave a slight wave of his hand, “Typically, neither am I.” He put it back at his side and turned back to Max. “So you are the one that rules over this planet, then?”

“Oh no,” Max responded, attempting to sound professional. “I’m only President of the United States. Y’see, on Earth we have a _veeery_ complex system-”

“We’re alone here, sir,” Superball interjected, “You can speak freely.”

“Oh!” And there went that professional tone. “Then yeah - I’m the one in charge, more or less!”

“ _Perfect_ ,” Skun-ka’pe replied, his tone seeming significantly more ominous - and the way his smile widened and he put his fingertips together wasn’t helping that at all - “Just the one I wanted to see.” The _chuckle_ after he said that also didn’t help.

Sam and Max exchanged a glance there - one where Max was seeing if Sam was hearing this and Sam was realizing precisely why Max wanted him present for this conversation. “Well, no wonder,” the lagomorph said when he looked back at the space gorilla, pretending not to notice out of the corner of his eye how Sam was slowly reaching in his jacket to rest a hand on his revolver. “I _am_ a pretty big deal. So, tell me, General - what exactly brings you here to our _lovely_ , adulterated planet?”

“I have come from your pitif- _beautiful_ world for a _peaceful_ -” Sam didn’t fail to notice his gaze flicker over to him for a moment, “-exchange of technology.”

“What sort of technology - weapons? Potentially of the _massively destructive_ nature?”

“Depends on who’s asking, but for the sake of hypotheticals - _that_ , and so much more.” He gestured towards his ship, “All the wonders of the galaxy…” He gestured to Max. “All yours.”

“Cool!”

“What’s the catch?”

Sam had spoken at the same time as Max, and the other three looked at him at once. The dog’s expression clearly seemed doubtful of this ‘offer’ - it was too good to be true, surely. Skun-ka’pe couldn’t help but raise a brow. “I’m sorry - I believe you said you were _unaffiliated?_ ”

“Freelance police,” Sam interrupted. “It’s kind of my professional obligation to inquire about these sorts of things.”

Max opened his mouth, about to make a comment about him being nosy, but thankfully, Skun-ka’pe spoke first. “Very well. There is no catch-” _Doubt it_ , Sam thought. “All I ask in return is your help while my... _research_ assistants search for an artifact of interest to my people.”

The dog tilted his head slightly. “And this would be…?”

“The Eyes of Yog-Soggoth. One of hundreds of magical toys scattered throughout the galaxy by the Great Comet.”

“It’s believed to give the holder the power to see into the future,” Superball chimed in.

“Right,” Sam murmured, sounding doubtful.

Ah - so it was a _premonition_ Max had. Okay. Well, that didn’t make anything better - if anything, it probably gave him _more_ reason to be hesitant of this guy. His ship, however...if that vision was correct, then there _were_ other toys on there. “...So,” Max eventually spoke, eyeing the large ship behind the newcomer, “This _amazing_ technology you mention - is it on…?”

“Currently, it is all in containment for the sake of travel,” Skun-ka’pe replied. “You are, however, free to go in and take a look around if you wish.”

“People are just free to walk in, huh,” Sam said - again, sounding doubtful.

“Of course! It is open to _all_ feeble people of Earth.” He seemed to make a point to smile and raise a brow at the dog, shaking his head a bit. “I have nothing to hide, Sam.”

Obviously, he must have simply overheard Max saying his name over by the DeSoto - that was the logical reason - but Sam couldn’t help but frown, brows furrowing at the use of his name. Whether it was intentional or not, he felt as though he was being mocked.

“Well, as us Earthianians say - no time like the present!” Max said, then tapped Sam’s leg, making the dog look at him. “C’mon, let’s pop in.” Sam proceeded to make the motion of checking a watch that Max knew damn well he didn’t actually have, and he tapped him a little harder. “There’s 24 hours in a day - you’re not in _that_ much of a hurry. Besides, let’s not be rude to our most pleasant guest.”

So much for two minutes than out. “Fine,” Sam replied. As Max decided to continue forward, he turned to Superball, pointing to the DeSoto. “Make sure none of that gets stolen or anything, yeah?”

“ _C’mon_ , Sam,” Max urged, already on the ramp. Sam sighed and proceeded to follow him, casting one last glance towards Skun-ka’pe before disappearing through the ship’s entrance.

“Alright, I admit it,” Sam spoke up as soon as they were out of earshot, “The guy’s fishier than the rancid trout they have at the supermarket down by mom and dad’s place.”

“ _Right?_ Guy’s givin’ me the heebie-jeebies- whoa.” He stopped himself mid-sentence after they fully entered the ship, looking at all the greys, purples and blues of the interior, the lights presenting a cold yet relaxing vibe. Though currently the view wasn’t much to look at, the windows that looked out were large - one could look out of them and easily see the rest of New York City. There were various entryways and even a whole other lower level that the eye could see from the entrance.

“Try-hard,” the dog muttered.

“Okay, yeah, just a little.”

“There’s somethin’ I’m not gettin’, though-” he looked down at Max with a raised brow, “Why were you so suspicious before you even talked to ‘im? And don’t try t’ tell me it was _just_ ‘cause of past experiences.”

“So what if it was? Would you still have come over?”

“I don’t feel like gettin’ into hypotheticals.”

“Is that a yes, Sammothy?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“ _Fine_ , it was ‘cause of this.” The lagomorph pulled out the viewfinder and handed it to Sam.

Sam looked over the scuffed viewfinder, turning it over with a confused expression. “...This is a toy.”

“Uh - yeah, no shit, Sam. Don’t tell _him_ this, but I think it’s the thing he’s lookin’ for.”

“ _This_ is the thing that supposedly lets you look into the future?”

“Well, it worked for me!” Sam looked at him doubtfully, but Max was paying no mind. So while he was rambling, Sam put the viewfinder to his eyes. “We were on this ship, and we were in a cage, and Stinky was there - Girl Stinky, not the other one - but I managed to teleport us out of there, and then-”

“There’s not even a _cartridge_ in this thing. Or whatever you call the things you put in here-”

“Oh my God, would you _stop_ interrupting? I’m tryin’ t’ tell you this cool story, and you just went and talked over me.”

“Sorry, but I’m tellin’ ya’ - this thing ain’t working.”

Max groaned loudly in frustration (and in an exaggerated fashion, admittedly), before snatching the viewfinder out of Sam’s hand. “You’re probably not even using it right! Here, I’ll show ya’.” He turned to the spot where it looked as though there was a high seat, and put the viewfinder to his eyes.

_Simple - Girl Stinky, texting on her phone._

“You’re swayin’ a lot there,” he heard Sam ask distantly as he came back down from his brief vision, “Don’t tell me you’re about to pass out.”

Max became aware of how close Sam had been standing next to him, and waved an arm around to get him to back off. “I’m _fine_. Now take these-” he shoved the toy in Sam’s hands, then pointed in the direction he’d been looking at, “And look at that.” He crossed his arms and turned his back to Sam while he put it back to his eyes, shutting his own with a somewhat smug expression as he said, “Bet Stinky’s sittin’ right there, on her phone.”

“...I don’t see anything.”

Max’s eyes shot open, his expression changing to one of annoyance, and he turned back around to look at him. “The hell do ya’ mean!? You’re lookin’ right at it!”

“I’m lookin’ at darkness. No, wait-” Max’s ears perked up expectantly, a smile appearing on his face. “Oh no, that’s just a reflection of the light-” Max’s smile dropped. “-So yeah, it’s just darkness.”

“Whatever - give me that.” Sam handed it back to him. “Anyway, as I was saying-” Max continued his story from where he left off, putting the viewfinder away (as to where, that was none of anyone’s goddamn business), “We were takin’ care o’ the big guy out there - tryin’ t’ put him in this place called the pelvic- no. Punitive? No-”

“Penal?” Sam guessed.

“Yeah! That! So anyway, we needed t’ send him there ‘cause he sucks or whatever, and I was a _bazooka_ and I was able to be one bec-” He cut himself off, gasping. “Gordon!”

“Gordon?” Sam repeated, sounding genuinely surprised. “Jesus, that was fast...”

“Wh- no, Gordon’s- where the hell’s your mind at? Gordon was this alien brain guy in my vision!”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m _serious!_ Look - I can prove it!” The lagomorph proceeded to walk forward, and the dog followed behind him with his hands in his pockets. The door Max approached whirred as it opened for him, the two of them walking through. “He helped me gain access to some of the other toys in this ship, and I-” he rambled, before stopping mid-step, an expression of shock on his face. “Oh no!”

“What?”

What Max was looking at was a clear container, illuminated from underneath by a blue light, that held what may as well have been grey mush for all it was worth to the world. He quickly approached it, peering through the glass of the container. “Oh _nooo_ ,” he said with a slight whine, “He’s dead!”

“Wait,” Sam said, raising a brow as he stopped behind Max, “That’s him?”

“Yeah! Or it’s _supposed_ to be. He was alive in my vision.”

“Oh.” Pause. “...So ya’ really weren’t kiddin’ about the alien brain thing.”

“Of course I wasn- where _ARE_ you right now?” Sam merely gave a light shrug in response, and Max grunted, looking back at the dead brain with a frown. “...Wish I had my ocarina on me,” he mumbled, “A song of tribute almost seems-”

“Hate to interrupt again, but you realize you could probably use the toy thingy, right?”

“...Huh.”

“Well, you said he’s alive in your vision, right? Well he’s-”

“Wait, hold on - I thought you didn’t buy into this whole ‘magical toy’ thing.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s say it _is_ true-”

“I thought you didn’t feel like getting into hypotheticals.”

“Shut up. He’s alive in the future, right? So he can’t be _dead_ dead.”

Max blinked at him, the realization slowly dawning on him. “...That’s probably the most useful thing you’ve said all day.”

“Well,” Sam adjusted his tie, “It’s still early.”

Max pulled the viewfinder back out, and put it to his eyes.

_“You did it, Sam and Max! You awakened me from the sleep of one hundred deaths! How did you do it?”_

“Anything?” he heard Sam ask (and failed to notice that he had his hand hovering just behind the lagomorph’s back - just in case).

“Well...he _was_ alive.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“But I didn’t...catch _how_ he was alive.”

“...So we don’t know how to fix this.”

“No.”

Sam frowned, staring at the brain before giving a small sigh. “Look, I-” Max looked at him, ears perking at the gentle tone Sam was using. “I’m willin’ t’ help, so don’t think I don’t - but if this is gonna be one of those things that’s gonna take a few hours, let me drop off Sybil’s things then come back, okay?”

Max’s ears drooped slightly, looking back at the glass container. “...Yeah, alright,” he murmured.

“I’ll be back in ten, fifteen minutes. Alright?”

“ _Whaaat_ ever.”

Sam paused for a moment, before turning and beginning to walk off. Max kept his eyes on a container before straightening an ear as a thought occurred to him. He looked at the viewfinder still in his hands, then looked at Sam, then back at the viewfinder before putting it against his eyes, pointing it in Sam’s direction.

_“You did it, Sam and Max! You awakened me from the sleep of one hundred deaths! How did you do it?”_

_“Easy-peasy! All it took was Stinky’s Demon Broth and Mama Bosco’s futuristic power core!”_

“Whoooa, wait, wait, Sam-!” he started calling to the dog, before having to brace himself against the container when he stumbled backwards slightly. Thankfully, Sam stopped and turned around to look at him with a confused expression. Once Max could get his footing again, he moved briskly over to him, saying, “Wait, wait, come back-”

“I’m stopped, you can _see_ I’m- what? What’s up?”

“I figured it out,” he said once he’d nearly toppled over stopping in front of Sam. “I got it, it’s- _hoo_.”

“Are you okay, you look like you’re about to be sick-”

“I think I stood up too fast, tha’s all-”

“You were- already _standing?_ ”

“Unimportant. Stinky and Mama Bosco.”

“I- What about them?”

“They’re the key to reviving Gordon!” he said, pointing to the dead brain. “They got things that can help!”

“...You wanna go right now, don’t ya’?”

“ _Weeell_ ...you _could_ go to Sybil’s, I suppose.” He started walking past Sam. “And _I_ can go and find the things by myself-”

Max was interrupted by Sam sighing, which was followed by, “No, I’m comin’. I said I’d help-”

“Perfect! C’mon, let’s go!”


	3. Search #1 out of Lord Knows How Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Max go on a quest to find Stinky's Demon Broth and Mama Bosco's powercore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so bc i love having visuals w/ the stuff i write, ive started to incorporate pictures into the chapters!! some of them are doodles, some are more detailed & some are just screenshots but it's all stuff to make the story a lil more fun than it already is uvu

“Let’s just try to keep this on the down-low,” Sam said quietly, approaching the ship’s exit, “We certainly don’t need _him_ knowin’ we’re onto him.”

“He probably already knows thanks to your lack of subtlety,” Max replied.

“Look who’s talkin’,” he said as they stepped onto the ramp.

“Hey, I can be subtle! Maybe not in the way _you_ do i _iit’s_ Flint!” The lagomorph had caught something out of the corner of his eye, abruptly turned 180 degrees and pretty loudly announced what he saw just as the man in question was letting the door close behind him in time to just miss overhearing him. Very subtle indeed.

The dog tilted his head slightly after turning his head to look where Max was looking, raising a brow upon seeing that sign for Stinky’s Diner. “Flint and Stinky’s?” he said doubtfully - not towards Max but towards the idea - then muttered, “Well, actually…”

“C’mon, let’s go talk to him! We gotta head over there anyway!”

“Yeah, alright. Least he’ll make this interesting.”

“‘Interesting?’”

“Fine - _entertaining_.”

The two entered the diner, and surely enough they could see the man known as Flint Paper seated at one of the booths, looking as if he was awaiting whatever monstrosity he’d had the guts to order. It may have occurred to Sam that there could potentially be some awkwardness in approaching their friend since college so soon after their break-up (especially given that his being absent from the apartment last night would have left him out of the loop of the short screaming match that occurred), but Max didn’t appear to have that worry as he proceeded to call, “Flint! Hey, Flint Paper!”

The man turned around, at first seeming surprised, then smiling widely as they came to his table. “Hiya, furry pals! What’s shakin’?”

“The whole darn building as of not too long ago,” Sam replied.

“Ah, right - ‘cause of the ship out there, yeah?”

“Knocked over everything but the coat rack.” He decided to leave out the fact that there was now a gaping hole in his floor. He hadn’t much of a chance to check on Flint’s apartment and the last thing he wanted was to cause alarm for something he couldn’t provide information on.

“Was wonderin’ why it was taped off. Think they’d kick me out if I tried to go in?”

“Well, you know what I think of caution tape - more of a guideline than a rule,” he said - and smiled when Flint laughed.

“Hey, so- Flint,” Max spoke up, having been preoccupied with bouncing on his toes during their short exchange. “We have this _great_ new case - one that _I_ got for us, right, Sam?”

“Can’t deny that,” is all Sam replied.

“Maybe you could help us out a bit!”

“Sure thing!” Flint said. “Just- maybe not right now? Kinda just sat down to eat.”

“Yeah, about that-” Sam said. “... _Why?_ ”

“Why what?”

“Why Stinky’s? That seems so- okay, not _unlike_ you, per se, but-”

“I think what Sam’s tryin’ to say is,” Max decided to chime in, “Why do you hate yourself?”

Flint cracked an amused smile, and, after leaning back in his seat, draping one arm over it, said, “Alright. I get it - not really my style-”

“Nor anyone else’s, but go on,” Sam said.

“-I just like to pop in here occasionally when I get the chance-”

“You mean you’ve been in here more than _once?_ ” Max said with a raised brow and a mildly disconcerted frown.

“Yeah! See, it’s kinda cool actually-” he leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. “My great-grandpa Emery actually _worked_ with Stinky. Original Stinky - not the dame.”

“He did?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

“Jesus Christ,” Max muttered. “And your great-gramps was older than mine…”

“Right?” Flint replied. “Pretty cool though! Having that one connection there. So I like t’ stop by, have a bit of a chat-”

“Grandpa Stinky _chats?_ ” Sam said.

“Well, no, not really. Not at _all_ , actually. But hey, can’t blame the guy - ya’ live for as long as he has, you’re bound t’ get a li’l grumpy.”

“And how long would that be, Flint?” Max said with a joking tone. “The age of the dinosaurs?”

“Hey, look fellas, all I’m sayin’ is I come here ‘cause I want t’ keep in touch with that small piece of my ancestor, y’know?” As he was saying that, Girl Stinky moved past Sam and Max to deliver the plate of spaghetti Flint had ordered, turning and walking back towards the counter. As Flint looked down at it, he could see clearly that peanuts - the one thing he was allergic to - were on it.

“...Seems like they want you t’ keep in touch with your ancestors too, if ya’ get my drift,” Sam said.

The man ignored that statement (which, Sam knew, meant he got it), and instead silently pushed the plate aside. “So what was this about-” he said as he was turning in his seat - and the shift in position made him just narrowly avoid an axe to the back of the head. All three individuals stared at it for a brief moment before turning back to their conversation. “What was this about a new case?”

“Well, to put it simply, we’re lookin’ for a couple of things. Something called ‘Demon Broth’ from here, and, uh…” The dog looked at his (strictly work) partner. “What was the other thing again?”

“Power core,” the lagomorph finished, almost seeming a little happy to provide at least _one_ detail to the case _HE_ got. “A thingy of Mama Bosco’s.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” Flint said, making the two others exchange a glance. “She hired me to find it, actually. Standard ‘find the secret invention for the scientist before it falls into the wrong hands’ sorta thing.”

“Any luck?” Sam inquired.

“Truthfully, haven’t even started yet. I’ve been so busy with a different case, I’ve kinda been puttin’ it off.”

“What sort of other case?”

“Oddly enough, one that involves _her_.” The man nodded towards the counter behind them, making them look towards Girl Stinky, who was now busying herself with wiping down the counter with only a dry, torn rag.

“...You, uh-” Max spoke as he and Sam both turned to look at the other again, “Wouldn’t suppose the murder attempt there would have anything to do with it?”

“Eh, hard t’ tell, frankly. But anyway-” he lowered his voice slightly, “I’ve been doin’ some diggin’ on her recently. Startin’ t’ get pretty far back with it, too. Think about it - what do we _actually_ know about her.”

“Well,” Sam started, “The story is that Grandpa Stinky made her with a demonic spell of some sort, and she’s been runnin’ the diner ever since.”

“That’s the _story_ , yeah. But you don’t _actually_ believe it, do ya’?”

The dog and lagomorph shared another glance - this time with confused looks. Confused mostly by the fact that they’d actually _witnessed_ part of this story before their very eyes, but- “Unimportant,” Sam said decisively, Max giving a nod in agreement. “What’re you gettin’ at?”

“While I was digging-” Flint reached into his back pocket and proceeded to pull out a piece of folded up paper, holding it out to Sam, “I found this.” The dog unfolded it and read it out loud:

_‘Stinky,_

_I must speak with you. I have reason to believe that our plan may be hindered in the near future. You-know-who is either beginning to suspect something or is simply about to get rid of me because of my not being human. We should start Phase Two as soon as possible before he has that chance._

_If there is anything else I can think of, I will let you know._

_-S._

_P.S. Just to be sure, your private number is still 212-555-8942, right? Call me when you see this so I can know.’_

“Someone inhuman,” Flint started once Sam had finished, “In cahoots with Stinky, name starts with an S and their plan is at risk of being sabotaged by an unknown third party. And it’s _bound_ t’ be Girl Stinky ‘cause she actually _uses_ a phone.”

“I’d discount that if it were anyone else,” Sam said, “But that does sound about right for the Stinkys.” He skimmed over it again. “Almost sounds like it could be Skunkape.” No one bothered to correct his pronunciation.

“Oh. I mean - I _guess_. Maybe. I was thinkin’ it could be you.”

“ _Me?_ ” the dog’s ears raised in surprise.

“Wow, that was fast,” Max said, mocking one of Sam’s earlier remarks, not noticing the blink Flint gave.

“Shut it, knucklehead,” Sam - who _did_ notice it - muttered.

“Hey, I’m not angry, Sam - I’m just very-”

“ _Shut. It._ ” Moving on from that, he quickly said to Flint, “Why would I be the one workin’ with Stinky?”

“Good cover. Plus the writing. I read your essays, I know you were a bit of an English nerd.”

“My handwriting’s that of a toddler using crayons on the living room carpet.”

“So ya’ got someone t’ write it for ya’.”

“Okay, fine. Then who’s the ‘you-know-who’ for me?”

“Easy - Max.”

“...Max, who is not human, wants to get rid of me because I’m...not human?” There was some genuine confusion in his voice - and then he heard Max snickering and saw Flint crack a smile that indicated he was trying not to laugh himself. Sam’s expression looked unimpressed, and he said, deadpan, “You’re kidding.”

“I am,” Flint admitted, “But thanks for makin’ my day. I’ll keep it in mind when I find my apartment’s gone t’ complete shit.”

“Mhm. Anyway - Skunkape. Know anything about him?”

“He _did_ try t’ hire me to find some missing toys, but I turned it down. I mean, if I can’t even find time to look for that power core…”

“Gotcha.”

“What’s so special about ‘em anyway - do ya’ know?”

“I can’t lie to _Flint Paper_ , Sam!” Max said.

“I can. Nope, can’t say I do. Do ya’ think him and Stinky could possibly be responsible for that missing power core? Assuming they _are_ somehow in cahoots.”

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Flint replied, having seemingly ignored the brief exchange before that. “Anyway, that’s all I got. I’ll let ya’ know if I find anything else.” Sam attempted to hand the letter back to him. “Nah, keep that. Sounds like you might need it.”

“It’s _your_ evidence, Flint.”

“I got a back-up. Don’t even worry about it.” Sam merely gave a shrug, folded it up then put it away. “I’m gonna take off here - grab some _not_ poisonous food down the street and maybe check into the building t’ see what the damage is if I get the chance.”

“Alright, sounds good. See ya’ around.”

“Later, Flint!” Max said as the man headed out.

Behind them, they could hear the creak of a door and the unmistakable muttering of Grandpa Stinky saying, “Finally, th’ bastard’s gone.” Looking over their shoulders, they could see him joining his granddaughter behind the counter.

“Jeez, seven pages in and all we got is some dumb intel,” Max said. “Appreciated, obviously, ‘cause it’s Flint, but-” He proceeded to pull out the viewfinder. “Maybe we can try and speed things up-”

“I dunno what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” Sam put a hand on the viewfinder and pushed it down as far as he could given the height difference, “But we’re not doin’ that.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” the lagomorph complained. “I don’t wanna be stuck here for thirty minutes tryin’ to figure out-”

“Max, I’m serious. For one, you probably shouldn’t be taking it out like that when there’s a creepy space ape guy lookin’ for it, and two, the last time ya’ used it, you looked like you were gonna throw up. We’ve figured out cases with our own wits before and we can do it again. Save it for when we’re _really_ stuck, alright?”

“ _Ugggh,_ _fiiine_.” Though he sounded reluctant, Max knew he was right - he certainly didn’t feel so hot after that last use - and he put it away. “So what’s next, then?”

“Well, we still gotta find the Demon Broth in here. Maybe we can talk to those two-” He nodded towards the Stinkys, “And see if there’s anything useful they can tell us.” Pause. “And just for the record, I say that loosely.”

As the sound of music coming through an old, slightly beaten radio began to resound through the diner, the dog decided to approach Girl Stinky first. As soon as she saw them coming her way, she groaned. “Great - if it isn’t Barney and Jug-Jug.”

“You’re not even trying with the name thing anymore, are ya’?” Max asked.

Ignoring the question, Stinky continued, “Listen, I’ve got a lot going on. Can I just give you your key, or crystal shard, or whatever it is you’re looking for so you guys can go off and do whatever it is you do?”

“You probably could,” Sam replied, “But unfortunately for both of us, I have actual questions.”

She merely crossed her arms. “Whatever.”

While Sam proceeded to do his usual thing of talking and asking questions, Max was zoning out, idly bouncing on his feet again before that urge to get things done more quickly was starting to set in. It wasn’t as if this urge hadn’t been there several times ever since they started taking on more bigger cases, starting all the way back to Brady Culture - but whereas typically he was used to forcing himself to sit remotely still, now he felt this need to do his own thing rather than wait for Sam to thoroughly talk with these people. This was _his_ case, dammit - he could do more than just stand around. And totally not that he cared about this sort of thing usually, but _man_ , they were wasting precious time.

So while Sam was chatting away, he decided to go over towards Grandpa Stinky, who was busy fiddling with the radio antenna and muttering curses after the music had started glitching out, and sat himself at one of the seats at the counter. Before he even had a chance to start off with a good ol’ lighthearted comment, the old man was muttering, “Th’ hell do _you_ want?”

“Hello to you too! _Lovely_ morning, isn’t it?” Grandpa Stinky merely grumbled something incoherently. Max noticed out of the corner of his eye Sam looking over at him - and was pleased that he returned to his conversation with the lady rather than question what he was doing. “So, I was talkin’ t’-”

“Ah _heard_ ye talkin’ to ‘im. Babblin’ on aboot _‘connections’_.” He said the last word derisively. “Makes no blasted sense.”

“Yeah, well - I was thinkin’ it was sorta neat.” Grandpa Stinky stopped fiddling with the radio once he got it fixed, standing up fully and crossing his arms. Max continued, “I mean, his great-gramps and mine, they were apparently buddies or something-”

“Yer not aboot t’ go all damn _nostalgia_ crazy like ‘e is, are ye?”

“Oh, no. I know better. If old papa Maximus were here, he’d tell me to tell you to eat his ass.”

“And Ah’d tell him t’ shove glass up it first.”

“What, like this jar?” Max said, pointing towards the random jar with a foul stench coming from it on the counter, nearly touching it with his index finger-

“Keep yer furry li’l mitts _off_ ,” he practically growled.

“Max decided not to listen, and instead tilted his head with a raised brow. “Why, what is it?”

“It’s _mine_ is what it is.”

“But what... _is_ it?”

The old man glared harshly at him, holding it for a few moments. “...Ain’t it usually yer _mongrel_ pal that acts all nosy?”

Max’s ears and nose twitched in aggravation, his brows furrowing at the comment at once. It was clear that it was just meant to be a _shot_ from the cantankerous, ill-tempered diner owner - and yet he still couldn’t help but respond snappily with, “What the hell is _that_ supposed t’ mean? Look - are ya’ gonna tell me what this is or _not?_ ”

“Of course ah’m not, ye stupid rodent-”

“ _Rodent!?_ ”

“Hey, Grandpa Stinky.” 

Before Max could absolutely _fling_ himself over the counter to defenestrate the guy, he found himself freezing in shock and rage at the sound of Sam’s voice - calm, cool, collected, and probably as friggin’ _oblivious_ as always to the words thrown at him. And now _his_ chance to get information for _his_ case was being overridden, and- gaa _aAAAH!!_

“What’s cooking?” Sam asked, completely relaxed.

“Oh, ye’d _like_ me t’ tell ye aboot me _Demon Broth_ , wouldn’t ye?”

“Are you _serious!?_ ” Max exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“I know, right?” Sam replied with a slight smile, earning an exasperated look from the lagomorph. “What are the odds?” When Max only continued to stare at him, his smile faded, his expression puzzled. “...What?”

Max could only slowly shake his head in disbelief, lowering his gaze to the floor out of annoyance.

“Th’ hell’s he actin’ all _stupid_ for?” His ears twitched in indignation-

“Oh, c’mon, I wouldn’t say that-” His ears straightened. “-He’s just had a bit of a long day, that’s all.” And then his ears drooped slightly. “Ain’t that right, li’l buddy?”

“...Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he muttered.

“...Anyway,” Sam continued, turning his attention back to the old man. “The Demon Broth.”

“Let me guess - ye want t’ take it for yerself? Steal another _patent?_ ”

“Actually yeah, kind of.” Despite his very much soured mood, Max couldn’t help but look at the dog with a raised brow. Other than a brief glance, Sam didn’t seem to pay much mind. “Moreso the first thing than the second thing, but y’know-”

“Well ye can have it - once it’s makin’ me _millions_ an’ is on every shelf in _every_ store from _HERE_ to _Madagascar!_ ”

There was a silence. One that lasted just a little too long. Enough for Max to eventually speak up and say, “ _Saaam_.”

“Yeah?”

“Is this the part where we go and find a complex solution to a practically nonexistent problem that also requires making the lives of sad suckers who aren’t even relevant to the situation a little brighter, thus creating a bunch of extra padding to kill everyone’s time including our own?”

“Nope.” The dog simply snatched the jar off the counter, ignoring the loud cursing Grandpa Stinky gave, shoving it into his jacket, ignoring the ‘oh my God’ he heard Stinky mutter, ignoring how Grandpa Stinky was trying to get out from behind the counter but failing because of the flap getting stuck and cursing even more as a result, and simply waltzed out of the diner with Max trailing behind him.

“That was oddly concise of you, Sam,” Max said as soon as they were outside the diner.

“Well, Max, I realized something.”

The lagomorph’s ears perked up, brows shooting up as well, and before he could stop himself, he felt a slight flutter of - dare he say _hope?_ \- in his chest. “ _Aaand_ what would that be?”

“You were right.”

Oh, he can physically _feel_ that hope getting higher. “About…?”

“We _should_ try to speed things up.” _Aaand_ that was the sound of his hope being shattered. “I don’t really wanna spend any more time on this case than I have to, either.” Followed by the sound of his feelings just being...a tiny bit hurt.

“Oh. Yeah. Glad we’re on the same page,” Max said - though he didn’t sound glad of much of anything right now.

“We should head off to Mama Bosco’s. Maybe she doesn’t have the power core, but maybe she can give us details on where to look.”

Max didn’t respond.

As the two were walking towards the DeSoto, Sam eventually spoke again. “Hey, uh- about what happened in there-”

“Ugh, just _forget_ it, Sam. It doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“I was just gonna say that-”

“ _FORGET_ it!” Max snapped loudly, slamming the passenger door shut and sinking into his seat with crossed arms.

Sam merely stood outside his car door, looking at the pissed off lagomorph with a lost expression, before it turned into one of annoyed resignation. Upon entering the car, he muttered, “This power core better not take long t’ find.”

“God forbid,” Max muttered in return, sounding incredibly bitter.

The dog looked at him once, then turned the key. As soon as the engine was fully alive, he stepped on the gas, speeding off to their next stop.

. . .

They eventually pulled up to the front of the condemned apartment building, with its many boarded up windows, glowing blue doorway and a green and yellow sign reading ‘BOSCOTECH LABS: “WE DO SCIENCE!”’ hanging from a metal bar at the highest point of the building just below the roof ledge. Wordlessly, the two exited the DeSoto and entered the building.

The hallways were dimly lit, yet the red walls with the dark purple fleur de lis-esque patterns seemed to stand out all the same. The duo’s feelings of vexation seemed to have vanished for the time being, what with Max almost admiring the atmosphere with a toothy grin while Sam found himself inching closer towards the lagomorph out of habit after seeing a rather _uncanny_ painting featuring what seemed like a rabbit and a dog. They eventually entered a more brightly lit room, one where the wallpaper was visibly torn, a grandfather clock sitting in the corner - oddly clean for being an abandoned building-

“ _Geeeeettttt...ouuuuuuuttt…_ ” The _very_ eerie voice made Sam just barely bite back a startled yelp, finding himself clutching at Max’s shoulders, staring at the small, shadowed figure before them with wide eyes. The figure soon cleared its throat, and said, “Get outta here!” Stepping into the light, it turned out to be Harry Moleman. “It’s Sam and Max!”

Sam relaxed, raising a brow. “Uh...hiya, Harry.” He noticed Max looking up at him with a raised brow, and having mistaken the look to be one judgemental of the fact that he was still holding onto the lagomorph’s shoulders, awkwardly let go, opting to shove his hands in his pockets instead. “We were looking for Mama Bosco.”

“Do not be afraid!” the mole said, sounding as if he were reading from a script. “Mama Bosco has passed on to the other realms, but I shall attempt to establish a link to-”

“Hey, good lookin’!” Max greeted humorously, looking off to the right to see the woman in question, her back turned to them while she was working on some high tech machine.

Mama Bosco looked over her shoulder, brows raised above the red-tinted goggles she had on in surprise. A smile soon spread on her features as she fully turned to face them, lifting her goggles from her eyes with a gloved hand. “Hey guys!”

Harry started up again; “Mama Bosco sends greetings from th-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Max interrupted, waving a hand, “It wasn’t cool the first time.” His smile reappeared when he turned his gaze back to the scientist. “How’s it hangin’?”

“Can’t complain!” she replied. “Excuse the casual garb-” she gestured to the outfit she wore - which consisted of a lab coat, a plain pink shirt and navy sweatpants - “Friday mornings, y’know?”

“I feel that!”

“Anyway - welcome to the labs! You’re my first visitors!”

“Wait,” Harry said, “ _I_ was your first visitor!”

Mama Bosco looked at him and paused. “...Right.” At that response, she saw the mole, head lowered, turn back around onto the elevator platform and descend. “...Anyway! What can I do for you boys?”

“We’re on a bit of an interesting case at the moment,” Sam said. “One involving that alien that landed here.”

“Oh, I heard about that on the NewsAlert! General Skun-ka’pe, right? Something about sharing alien technology, and ending all poverty and disease on Earth…”

“Y’know, Sam,” Max said, looking up at the dog. “This guy’s really gettin’ around _fast_. He’s been here - what? An hour? An hour and a half? And already people seem to know what he’s about.”

“If there’s one important life skill middle school and high school has taught me,” Sam replied, “It’s not to question when word spreads fast - because it spreads _fast_.”

“Fair point.”

“Oddly enough,” Mama Bosco continued, “I was gonna ask him to help finish my Dimensional Destabilizer!”

“Okay-” Max held up two fingers, “Two things. One - what is that. Two - ... _why?_ ”

“I can’t go into the full details right now, but the Dimensional Destabilizer is something to help get my body back. Why don’t you come down and see it?”

The two decided to oblige, going down the elevator Harry had gone down on just a minute prior. It led down to the lab, which was practically filled with machinery and screens. One thing that caught Sam’s attention was the smell of recently dug up dirt - which, surely enough, looking around, he’d find there was a hole dug up that Harry was standing by. “Ya’ think Harry _dug_ his way in here?” Sam inquired, keeping his voice low.

“I think it’s a bold assumption to make to think that just ‘cause he’s a mole means he _must_ be the reason for that hole, but...yeah.”

“Maybe we should take a look in it.”

“Well, I’m not climbing down it, _aaand_ you can’t fit.” Sam shot a dirty look at him. “Because of your broad shoulders! Jeez, Sam, I know we’re exes, but I’m not gonna be _that_ mean.”

Sam seemed to pause, his frown deepening a little. “...Glad to know you have standards.”

They approached the Dimensional Destabilizer - which, frankly, looked almost like it was a bunch of random parts thrown together then neatly polished to look nice and fresh. Still, looking it over, Sam couldn’t help but say, “As someone who totally didn’t use to be a complete geek about robotics, I gotta say, this is pretty impressive!”

“Thanks!” the lady replied.

“That still doesn’t answer the ‘why’ part of Max’s question though. I mean, why taint a good thing with Skunkape’s touch?”

“Why not? He seems fairly legitimate.”

“He legitmate _ly_ has a dead brain on his ship,” Max commented.

“Is it an alien brain?” She sounded a little excited by the idea. “That’s gotta be worth seeing.”

“Actually,” Sam decided to chime in, a smile on his face at the near perfect transition, “Funny we get on this topic, because we were actually hoping to make it a _not_ dead brain.”

“Well, that certainly would be a little more impressive,” Mama Bosco admitted. “Do you have a plan to do it already, or…?”

“Yeah. All we need is a power core.”

“Oh, darn! Sorry, Sam - if this was just a _little_ bit earlier, I may have been able to help. Unfortunately, my power core was stolen from my lab. I hired a detective to help, but I haven’t heard back from him yet.”

“Well, maybe we can help! What’s it look like?”

Mama Bosco laughed at that inquiry, making the dog tilt his head. “‘What does it look like’. What a question! It _looks_ like a power core!”

“...Uhhh…”

“That’s like asking what a Banderpoont Particle Emitter looks like!”

“...” Sam merely gave a small, awkward laugh of his own. “Right…”

Max, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as amused. “Well, good t’ know comin’ here was a complete waste of time.”

“Not a _complete_ waste…” Sam said, looking at the hole.

“No, you’re right,” the lagomorph wasn’t following his gaze, “It was nice t’ visit Mama Bosco, actually!”

“Not th- well, yeah, that too.” His ears perked forward as a thought occurred to him, and he looked back up at the scientist again. “Hey, Mama Bosco, I’ve got somethin’ else t’ ask, actually.”

“What is it?”

“Have ya’ heard anything about these toys Skunkape’s been goin’ on about?” He saw Max’s ears perk up, and waved a hand slightly to stop him before he said anything. Max seemed a little alarmed by him bringing the toys up, but decided to trust that he wasn’t about to give anything away.

“Bits and pieces - enough to have a thoughtful conversation,” she raised a brow. “Why?”

“Just a li’l curious about the _psychic_ aspect of it, that’s all. Thought maybe a respectable scientist like yourself could elaborate on how all of that works. Er - _theoretically_ , of course.” Max couldn’t help but tilt his head at the dog’s questioning. Why was he asking about this?

“Well, firstly, these ‘toys’ certainly wouldn’t work for _everyone_. There’s a certain brain pattern required for it to be compatible with such energy as that.”

“So Skunkape’s got that brain pattern, ya’ think?”

“I’d _hope_ so. Would seem pretty silly for him to be looking for them if they didn’t even work with him.”

“Right. And, uh - what would the potential side effects of these powers be? Again - theoretically.”

“Nausea, dissociation, fever - actually, if you want to get extreme about it, overuse could develop a tumour, or worse - explode the whole damn brain.”

“Yikes. Okay, good to know.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that’ll be it. We’ll take off here - and we’ll keep a lookout for that power core, let you know if we find anything.”

“Alright. Take care, boys.”

As they found themselves walking through the halls on the way out, Max asked, “What the hell was that last part about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why were ya’ indirectly askin’ her about my powers?”

“Expositional purposes.”

“Ah.”

“But _useful_ exposition,” he opened the front door. “Now we know why your toy doesn’t work on me, that Skunkape was probably lying about it being an artifact for his people since it doesn’t work on everyone-”

“Well, we could guess _that_ part.”

“-And the side effects of your powers range from minor to catastrophic.”

“The part about my brain exploding was pretty cool. I’d _love_ t’ see that.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t hear anything cool - I just heard a reason that validated my previous statement of ‘ _Save it for when we’re really stuck_ ’.”

“You’re really startin’ t’ drag me down, Sam.” The two got in the car, shutting their doors. “...Now what?”

“Harry’s hole - I’m assuming he did make it himself - it reminded me of the maintenance bein’ done on the subway station by our building.”

“You mean the _sewer?_ Y’ think it’s gonna be down there?”

“Well, how many things have _you_ accidentally lost down there?”

Max opened his mouth, closed it, counted on his fingers for a few moments, and- “Okay, yeah, fair point. But the _sewer?_ ”

“I’d make a joke about it being a ‘date night’, but that now seems inappropriate since we’re _exes_.”

The lagomorph blinked. “...Are you puttin’ emphasis on that just ‘cause _I_ said it earlier or-”

“Absolutely not,” he lied, turning the key and driving off once more.

. . .

They indeed found themselves descending down the ladder that led to the sewers, which was indeed littered with a bunch of miscellaneous trash and debris, large holes in the wall, the disgusting orange water audibly sloshing in the stream between the two platforms.

“This sucks,” Max said.

“It does,” Sam agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s part of the job.”

“Well it’s a _crappy_ part of the job.” Pause. “...Get it? ‘Cause-”

“Yeah, I got it, thanks.”

Looking around, it didn’t take long for them to realize that a _majority_ of the stuff was on the other side of the mucky sewer, so _if_ the power core _was_ in there, it’d be likely in one of those piles.

“...I’m not crossing that water,” Sam mumbled.

“I don't think it even qualifies as water anymore, frankly.”

“Whatever. It's burning my nose enough already - I’m not goin’ near it. There's a few different holes here, and at least two of ‘em lead to that side.”

“One of ‘em almost looks like it leads right under the diner.”

The dog blinked a bit, then followed where the lagomorph was looking. “...Hey, you’re right!” he said with a smile. The smile faded. “...Darn. If I knew I was gonna need back there again, I would’ve reconsidered my previous actions.”

“Don’t tell me ya’ would’ve gone the unnecessarily long way.”

“No, I just would’ve gone about it in a smarter way.”

They decided to climb out of the sewer for now. “So,” Max said, “How are goin’ about this, then? ‘Cause it's probably not just _him_ we have t’ worry about.”

“You got that right. If we’re gonna look around, we’re gonna need the place to ourselves.” He put a hand to his chin in thought. “...Girl Stinky isn't a problem. Not really.”

Max blinked at him for a moment. “...How- oh! The phone number!”

“Right. I’d have to go inside t’ call her, though.” He was referring to his apartment building. “As for Grandpa Stinky…”

There was silence as the two thought - before Max’s ears twitched. “...I might have a way of handling him. But I need the Demon Broth.”

“What are ya’ thinkin’?”

“ _Iiit’s_ better I don’t tell ya’ now.”

Sam’s face screwed up in an uncertain frown, but opened up his jacket, muttering, “The less I know, the better, I guess.” He handed the jar to the lagomorph, ignoring the stench of the thick liquid. “Just be careful - there ain’t any more where that came from.”

“Yeah, yeah, I _got_ it,” Max replied, a little annoyed. “Just go do your thing - meet me in the diner when you’re done.”

“Alright. I’ll see ya’ then.”

. . .

When Sam emerged from his damaged apartment after making a phone call pretending to be the ‘S.’ from the note to Stinky, thus giving her a reason to leave the diner, he happened to see Grandpa Stinky… _’talking’_ to one of Skun-ka’pe’s ‘research assistants’.

“I believe there’s been some sort of misunderstanding-”

“Misunderstandin’ my _arse!_ ”

Sam was able to silently slip by as Skun-ka’pe himself was approaching the situation. There were two things he noticed before he entered the diner - one, the window on it was busted, and two, Skun-ka’pe _definitely_ made direct eye contact with him before he swung open the door. Surely enough, Max was in there looking around already.

“What the hell did ya’ _do?_ ” Sam asked.

“Easy - I smashed Grandpa Stinky’s window and made it look like one of those space gorillas did it.” He was looking underneath the tables. “Knowin’ him, he probably won’t be back for a while.”

“And you needed the _jar_ for that? Where’s the Broth?”

“Relax - I just poured it in Gordon’s tank before I chucked the jar through the window.”

“But _why?_ ”

“I dunno. Irony, I guess.”

“Jesus- okay, fine. What’s done is done. Have ya’ found anything yet?”

The lagomorph hummed, having reached the table that Flint had been sitting at earlier. He felt around the floor with a foot, and could just faintly feel a ridge in it - as if a piece of the floor was cut out then put back in place again. “There’s certainly _somethin’_ here…”

“Entry to the sewer, ya’ think?”

“I’d _hope_.” He crouched down to get a closer look. “I don’t see any way to…”

Understanding what he meant, Sam started looking around as well, observing various parts of the restaurant. He eventually found himself going behind the counter.

“Y’know, Sam,” Max spoke, hopping onto the counter. “This is a lot of work just t’ go lookin’ on the _other_ side of the sewers.”

“Just another aspect of the job, I guess.”

“A _crappy_ aspect-”

“Seriously? Again?”

“Oh no, I was being serious this time.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I guess it is kinda- aha!” There was a smile on his face as he caught sight of a bright green button (golden yellow to his colourblind eyes). 

Without a second thought, he pressed it, and the sound of hissing and whirring made them both look up to see the table descend into the floor before stopping, making itself a sort of elevator platform. “Finally,” Sam said with a slight sigh. “C’mon, let’s go down and see if we can find that power core.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

They proceeded to step on the table-made-platform. Automatically it lowered, their surroundings soon growing dark around them, then growing slightly lighter once they reached the bottom. Walking forward, they found themselves back in the sewer - and thankfully on the other side as they’d hoped. On their right, unfortunately, was a large pile of Minesweeper cartridges and debris blocking their path to the other hole on that side, but on their left there was a pile of low-tech audio/video equipment, tossed out like pianos from a falling zeppelin.

The first thing Sam decided to pick up was a scanner with a name tag that read ‘CAROL’. “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s an old scanner.”

“Oh boy! Whose head do we explode first?”

“Not _that_ kind of scanner. It’s one of those all-in-one scanner/fax/copier/juice maker ones.”

“Oh. Well that’s only _half_ as fun.”

“I’m not quite sure why, but I get the feeling we should take it with u- hey, would ya’ look at that!” He practically shoved the scanner into Max’s hands and proceeded to pick up none other than the power core itself, which had been snugly buried under where ‘Carol’ had just been. He flashed Max a smug look and said, “Who was right, huh?”

The lagomorph rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get this crap to the ship while we still have the chance.”

“But it looks like we need to- hook it up with...something...” His facial expression changed mid-sentence as a thought occurred to him. “...Here, we’ll switch-” He took the scanner from Max and put the power core in his arms instead. “You take that the alien brain-”

“ _Gordon_.”

“I don’t care. Take it to him - I gotta grab something from the car.”

With a huff, the lagomorph carried the power core to the platform, Sam following shortly behind him. They eventually exited the diner - and thankfully, Grandpa Stinky and General Skun-ka’pe were still distracted, though it seemed as if the angered yelling had died down some (actually, Sam could’ve sworn Skun-ka’pe handed something to the old man…) - and while Max went up the ship’s ramp, Sam did as he said he would and went straight to the DeSoto.

“I dunno why I figured you’d be handy,” he murmured to the scanner as he placed it - _her_ , he supposed - on the dashboard, “But hopefully my intuition isn’t wrong.” After doing that, he proceeded to the backseats, digging through Sybil’s things before eventually pulling out jumper cables. He proceeded to take them up the ramp, thankfully unnoticed this time.

“Alright,” Sam said, walking in to see Max placing the power core next to the tank holding the dead brain with was now filled with Demon Broth. He proceeded to hook one of the metal clips onto the power core, then held the other one over the glass container. “Ya’ ready for this, Max?”

“I dunno. Maybe we should wait- of _COURSE_ I’m ready! C’mon, wake ‘im up!”

“Okay. Here goes.” With that, he dropped the clip into the tank.


	4. Search #1: The Second Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because just one chapter wasn't enough to cover it.

At first there was nothing - no movement, no sign of life, nothing. Doubt was in both of their minds, but they stood and stared at the grey brain that still rested at the bottom.

And then - the brain began to glow. A twitch of the strange antennae attached to it, and it began to rise to the surface of the Broth. “You did it, Sam and Max!” it - he, _Gordon_ \- said in a higher-toned voice which sounded as if it was more _inside_ the duo’s head than _outside_. “You awakened me from the sleep of one hundred deaths!” Pause. “How did you do it?”

“Easy-peasy!” Sam smiled. “All it took was Stinky’s Demon Broth, and Mama Bosco’s futuristic power core! Oh - and jumper cables. That was somewhat important.”

“Don’t say ‘easy-peasy’, Sam,” Max said.

“Whatever the case,” Gordon continued, “Listen carefully! Do _not_ trust General Skun-ka’pe! He is...he is... _ohh_ …” Both of their ears perked at the shakiness of the last word, the brain sounding as if - somehow - he was about to be sick.

The dog’s brows furrowed, his voice concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Something’s... _happening_ …”

Shortly after he’d said that, the blue lights on the ship began to flicker, causing the dog and lagomorph to look around in alarm. An electronic voice announced, ‘TOYS DETECTED. TOYS DETECTED.’

“Whoa, hey-!” Max exclaimed. “What gives!?”

“What are you doin’, brain!?” Sam said, panicked. “Cut it out!”

“I can’t help it!” Gordon sounded equally as alarmed. “I’m-” His voice switched suddenly, sounding deeper and more gravelly, almost as if it was someone else speaking entirely. He groaned a guttural groan, and spoke; “ _Yog-Soggoth nagul oram! Yog-Soggoth nagul oram!_ ”

The Freelance police could only stare, bewildered by the bizarre display - only to be startled by the sound of the door swishing open behind them. Entering the room almost in a rush was none other than General Skun-ka’pe.

“Gordon’s _ALIVE!?_ ” he shouted. It wasn’t quite certain to either if he was shocked, angered or both, but whichever it was, it faded, replaced by that same feigned pleasantness he had when they spoke to him earlier. “What a _pleasant_ surprise!” He proceeded to approach the tank, seeming to ignore Sam and Max’s presence. “Tell me, friend brain-” He stopped in front of it. “ _Where_ is the toy?”

“Two...toys…” The brain shuddered slightly. “Too... _weak_...can’t...trace…” With a shaky groan, he sank to the bottom once again, completely still.

The space gorilla gave an infuriated growl, fists clenched as if he was prepared to smash it with his bare hands. He eventually released them when he heaved a deep sigh. “Very well,” he said lowly. “I’ll just have to find them _myself_.” With that, the General turned and left, leaving the pair standing there. They eventually turned to look at the sunken brain again.

“...Please don’t tell me you’re actually dead,” Max said, “Because if you are, I might break something.” Gordon twitched an antenna in response. “Okay, good.”

“Is he gone?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah, the coast’s clear,” Sam confirmed. At that, the brain floated to the surface once again. “What just happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I’m fine, but- I’ve never felt anything like that before! The toys of this planet must have astonishing power…”

“Right. Where _is_ Skunkape’s collection of magic toys?”

“He keeps them on display as a show of power. I’m regaining control over the ship’s functions, so I can reveal them to you.” There was a whirring sound on the lower deck, and the two shared a glance before they decided to look over the edge of the deck. Next to the cages (that Max recognized one as being the prison Skun-ka’pe placed him and Sam in) there was a hole in the wall, and in it was levitating a toy rotary dial phone, just as banged-up looking as the viewfinder.

“...That’s it?” Max asked.

“ _‘That’s it?’_ ” the brain repeated, sounding, frankly, appalled. “It’s a toy that lets you _teleport_ across _vast_ distances in the _blink of an eye_ using only the power of your _mind!_ That’s not _cool_ enough for you!?”

“He’s got a point, Max,” Sam said.

“It’s not _that_ \- it _is_ super cool, don’t get me wrong, it’s just- I dunno, there were more toys-”

“I’m sorry, _more_ toys?” Gordon sounded surprised. “What do you know about other toys?”

“Uh - I mean, nothing, really. I just- I had this future vision-”

“Wait- future vision? You mean you- you _wield_ the Eyes of Yog-Soggoth?”

“The viewfinder? Yeah, sure I do. It’s kinda how I knew how t’ revive you in the first place.”

“But that means- you- you have the Gift!”

“The what now?”

“The Gift - it’s what allows you to use the Toys of Power! I _thought_ I sensed something in you…”

“That must be what Mama Bosco was speakin’ of,” Sam said to Max. “With the brain patterns and such. Guess you and Skunkape are cut from similar cloth after all.”

“They are _not_ ,” Gordon said sharply. “Skun-ka’pe is a _fraud_. He no more has the Gift than you have an extra spine or blue fur. However, I would strongly advise caution - if you have the Gift such as I do, then he already knows.”

“So much for tryin’ t’ keep things on the down-low, I guess,” Sam murmured.

“If you saw other toys in your vision, then they must be somewhere within this city. You must find them before _he_ does, or else he’ll destroy _everything!_ ”

“I mean, we’re on the case, but where do we even start? They could be _anywhere…_ ”

“Let me grab this toy first,” Max said, several nerves in his body feeling as if though they were being physically pulled towards it - just as he’d felt with the viewfinder - “And then we’ll figure it out from there.”

The lagomorph proceeded to head down to the lower deck, feeling the pull getting stronger the closer he got to the toy, with Sam following behind. He eventually approached the now open display, and just as he had with the previous toy, his body suddenly felt as if it was on autopilot once again, aware of nothing else except the toy telephone in front of him. He reached out and took it from its spot, and felt that same surge of energy as before. Without even thinking, he spun the dial with a finger, and was prepared to take the phone off the receiver-

He snapped out of it at the sound of plastic clacking against plastic, and blinked. Sam had forced him to put the phone back.

“Let’s not go teleportin’ to random locations just yet,” the dog said.

Max trembled once - the vibration seeming to travel from his feet to the tips of his ears - and shook his head to clear it. “Uh - yeah,” he replied, sounding a touch out of it. “Yeah, sure.” He put it away. Shortly after, the sound of a door being opened behind them caught both of their attention, and entering the ship this time was Agent Superball.

“Spaceship is secure,” the agent said, a finger on his earpiece. He removed it and turned to the duo. “If I could have a moment, sirs.”

“Hey, Superball!” Sam greeted with a smile. “What’s up?”

“This may come as a shock, but our intel indicates General Skun-ka’pe is actually _quite_ malevolent.”

“Glad t’ see people are catchin’ up,” Max said to Sam. “After...what, two hours?”

“I stopped keepin’ track after the first two minutes.” He looked at Superball. “What’s the intel?”

The man proceeded to explain, “General Skun-ka’pe is an intergalactic criminal warlord. There’s been a galaxy-wide gorilla hunt in effect ever since he escaped from the Penal Zone.”

“Yeah, that’s the second time I’ve heard about that today - what _is_ it?”

“It’s an inter-dimensional prison for the most dangerous villains in the universe. Thankfully, The United Planets have simply and easily-reproducible fail-safe measures in place to handle escaped convicts.”

“Thankfully.”

“All we need to do is open an unstable trans-dimensional gateway to the Penal Zone and his prisoner’s badge will take care of the rest.”

“Weird,” Max commented with a slight tilt of his head. “He didn’t _look_ like he was wearin’ any kind of badge.”

“There lies the problem, Mr. President - he wasn’t wearing one, and we can’t track him without it, nor can we get him back into the Penal Zone. We’re currently powerless to stop him.”

“I’m tempted to take a shot for every time you say Penal Zone.”

“This is going to require some detective work on your parts, sirs.”

“Well, this day just keeps gettin’ better and better.” Sam crossed his arms. “What’s this badge look like?”

“It’s a standard-issue intergalactic correctional facility inmate’s badge. It can’t be destroyed, so the only way he could’ve gotten rid of it is by giving it to someone else.”

That made Sam’s ears perk forward, uncrossing his arms. He _had_ seen Skun-ka’pe handing something over to Grandpa Stinky earlier...He’d talk to Max about it after. “Okay. So once we _do_ get this badge to him, then what?”

“Doctor Mama Bosco’s Dimensional Destabilizer can open a gateway to the Penal Zone-” He ignored Max’s miming of taking a shot, “Anyone wearing the prisoner’s badge - preferably General Skun-ka’pe - will be returned to justice automatically _and_ scientifically.”

“Mhm. Got it.” The dog adjusted his jacket by the lapels and said, “Not to worry, Superball - we’ll hit that space gorilla where it _really_ hurts.”

Max immediately chimed in with, “Right in the _Penal Z_ -”

“I get it, Mr. President,” the agent interrupted promptly. He turned his head slightly yet suddenly, as if hearing something from his earpiece. “I’ll speak with you another time, sirs. That is all.” With that, he proceeded to turn and leave.

“...Y’know,” the lagomorph said, “I really hate these moments of quiet after bein’ delivered a bunch of info. It just feels awkward.”

“It does. On the bright side, we’re at least not as lost on where t’ find the badge as we are with the toys.”

“Oh?”

“When we came in earlier, Skunkape looked like he was giving Stinky something. Old Stinky.”

“Jeez - we’re really pickin’ on that poor, pissed off man today, ain’t we?”

“We are. However, I don’t think any amount of thievery and destruction of property’s gonna get us out of this one. I mean, think about it - we take it from him, he says somethin’ t’ Skunkape, and next thing you know, one or both of us ends up in there.”

“Could we go down and actually _check_ t’ see if he has it before I agree with you?”

“Can’t think of a reason not to.”

The two exited the ship and went over to the diner. At the door, they positioned themselves off to the sides as to avoid being spotted and peered in through the broken window. Surely enough, Grandpa Stinky did have a badge of some sort on.

“Okay, yeah,” Max finally said. “We gotta figure somethin’ else out.”

“Well, I’m personally at a loss for ideas.”

“Well, all of mine involve scandalous deeds.”

They exchanged a look and stared at each other for a long moment. Sam didn’t fail to notice the way Max was looking at him almost _expectantly_ , then sighed. “Okay, fine.” The lagomorph gave a toothy smile. “See if you can get us a hint.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He pulled out the viewfinder, and proceeded to put them to his eyes.

_“We interrupt this program for a breaking news bulletin: officials for the city’s 700 million dollar lottery jackpot drawing have announced that there is one winning ticket, sold to unemployed and somewhat pathetic Moleopolis resident, Harry Moleman.”_

“Harry?” Max said with confusion when he came to. “Of all the poor bastards t- wait-” He noticed he was being held up by the armpits by Sam, and looked up at him with a raised brow. “Why’re we in the trust fall position?”

“You nearly _fell over_ , bonehead. How the hell did you not notice at all?”

“I’m kind of _focused_ , Sam. Y’know - on seeing the _future?_ ”

“Whatever.” He put the other back on his feet. “What was that about Harry?”

“Apparently it’s his lucky day - he’s gonna win the lottery.”

“Then it’s gonna be his _un_ lucky day, ‘cause _we_ need that badge and Grandpa Stinky ain’t givin’ it up without some sorta bribe.”

“Why would Buck just dump it on _him_ of all people? I mean, I know the guy probably just wants t’ get rid of it, but.”

“Maybe he made it seem like a sort of compensation. T’ make up for the busted window that Stinky _obviously_ thought was one of his minions.”

“Yeah, that makes sense, actually.”

“Like how ya’ cared more about that than the fact that I planned on robbin’ someone of their winnin’ lottery ticket.”

Max gave him a look as if he had two heads. “It’s _Harry_ . I don’t care about him for the same reason I don’t care ‘bout every other schmuck we’ve dealt with. Probably even _less_ than, ‘cause he’s sadder than a-”

“Alright, I get it. Well, we know where the badge is, and we gotta go to Mama Bosco’s _anyway_ \- so let’s see if we can knock two birds out with one stone.”

“Screw stones - I prefer takin’ ‘em the old fashioned way. With bullets.”

“You crack me up, li’l buddy.”

Max paused at that, looking at Sam with wide, surprised eyes. It hadn’t occurred to him until just then how, between last night and all of today thus far, Sam hadn’t said that at _all_ up until now. And he hadn’t realized he’d actually cared enough to notice the lack of the phrase, either…

Sam, however, was - as per usual - oblivious to his surprise, and was already headed back to the DeSoto once more. With only a slight twitch of his nose, he followed after him.

. . .

When they arrived at BoscoTech Labs again and entered, the first thing they saw was one space gorilla blocking the elevator while another was actually _on_ the same platform as Mama Bosco, standing close to her. It was clear, even from looking at her from behind, that she was uncomfortable.

“Hey!” Max immediately shouted at the one next to the lady, getting both his and her attention. “Give ‘er a li’l space, _pal!_ ”

The gorilla by the escalator, who had moved towards them as soon as he’d saw them, growled, “No visitors,” then proceeded to suddenly grab Max by the neck-

“ _HEY!_ ” Sam barked, whipping his revolver out from his jacket. “Get your _damn_ _hands_ off my partner-” As he was taking aim, there was a loud thud from the other space ape hopping from Mama Bosco’s platform to behind Sam, and almost immediately the dog turned the gun in his hand and whipped around, hoping to catch the guy in the face. However, he ended up getting caught by the wrist, and before he knew it, the alien was throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

Despite his struggling, Sam was able to be carried out of the building and tossed onto the sidewalk. He immediately got to his feet, prepared to fight again, but the space gorilla was guarded yet passive. It was clear his only goal had been to remove the dog from the building.

“Give me back Max!” he demanded.

“You can have the rabbit back once Jerome’s done workin’ ‘im over.”

Sam held back a growl and muttered, “Like hell.” He immediately turned and went over to the DeSoto.

Max was being shaken like a small child shakes a doll, his airway being cut off. He was only vaguely aware of Mama Bosco yelling for the alien to let go. It was clear he needed to get out of this _quick_ . ~~Sure, he craved the cold clammy hands of death but~~ He didn't wanna go out like _this!_ This was just stupid!

As if it was an instinct that he had always had, he found himself whipping out the toy telephone-

“What the-” the gorilla said, “Where’d you get that!?”

Sam started up the car, and as soon as he did, he backed up quickly, the wheels squealing as he lined himself up-

“Did you steal that from the _ship!?_ ” Max ignored his enraged question, focusing on not falling unconscious as he turned the dial to what he somehow knew was _Sybil’s phone_ , picking up the receiver and putting it to his ear-

Before the space gorilla in front of him could realize what was about to happen, Sam gunned it, ramming the front of the DeSoto right into the alien, sending him flying through the doors, the glass shattering from the impact. Just as he was about to exit the vehicle to go in and help Max, his ears perked up at a very strange sound unlike anything he’d ever heard before, making him look behind him. Surely enough, the space gorilla that was strangling Max, along with Max himself, suddenly materialized right behind him. Without even thinking about it, Sam switched gears and stepped on the gas pedal. The DeSoto proceeded to go in reverse, sending the other gorilla flying to the ground, letting go of the lagomorph in the process. Neither gorilla got up.

Sam got out and went over to Max, who was coughing as he was getting to his hands and knees, and helped him up. “You alright, Max?”

“I think he crushed my trachea.”

“Sorry t’ hear that. Nice thinking about the teleportation thing, by the way.”

“Y’know, the one benefit t’ bein’ choked out is I was already so light-headed, I couldn’t even _feel_ the vertigo.” He eventually shook his head. “C’mon, let’s see if Mama Bosco’s okay!”

“Good idea.” The dog was prepared to turn around, but stopped for a moment upon seeing a torn piece of paper next to the gorilla. He bent over and picked it up.

Max’s ears perked up as he noticed. “What is it? A clue?”

“A receipt. Or part of one, anyway. Can’t tell which store…” He glanced over at the scanner, still resting on the dashboard even after that little ordeal. “We’ll figure it out after. Mama Bosco comes first.”

Upon re-entering the building, Mama Bosco immediately said with relief, “Thank you _so_ much for getting rid of those gorillas.” Her brows furrowed with concern. “Are you both alright?”

“We’re fine,” Sam replied, with Max giving a nod. “Er - I may have accidentally busted your front door, though. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t even worry about it. It’s a _condemned_ building. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” She brushed down her lab coat, and continued, “What brought you guys back, anyway?”

“A couple of reasons. First was to bring up the Dimensional Destabilizer.”

“Yeah, those gorillas were pretty obsessed with it. What about it?”

“Accordin’ to our good friend, Agent Superball-” He noticed Max wander off towards the elevator, and decided to let him. “-It might be useful in puttin’ Skunkape back in this place that’s, somewhat humorously, called the Penal Zone.”

“That- ... _is_ pretty humorous, actually. And makes sense as to why they were here. Skun-ka’pe probably sent them to keep anyone from gaining access to it.”

“So you’re sayin’ it _can_ work?”

“Of course it can! Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Right, of course. Sorry, ma’am- er, doctor.”

“Either works. Anyway, it’s certainly worth a try. I built a remote control so you should be able to open the gateway anywhere. Keep in mind, though - you only get one chance, and it’ll only stay open for a few minutes. Make sure you time it right.”

“Right. Got it. Thanks.”

“What was the other thing?”

“Hm? Oh, uh-” He decided to peer over the edge of the platform he was on. Max was by the hole that Harry presumably made, caught Sam’s eye and waved what looked like another piece of paper. Judging by the slightly triumphant smile on his face, he was going to assume it was safe to guess it was the ticket. “We... _were_ lookin’ for Harry, but I think we found what we were lookin’ for without him.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. Guy just completely skedaddled as soon as there was trouble - left _me_ to deal with it all by myself!”

“Yeah, that sounds about right for Harry. Anyway, sorry t’ knock out some space apes and run, but the sooner we take care o’ Skunkape, the better.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She turned to Max as he was headed to the elevator, and said to him, “Make sure you get the remote off from the table!” As he turned back around to do that, she turned back to Sam, and said, “Good luck. The both of you.”

“Thanks Doctor Mama Bosco.” He tipped the brim of his hat upwards. “Here’s hopin’ we won’t need it.”

. . .

“Okay, so-” Max spoke as they drove down the streets of New York City, leaning an arm against the car’s ledge, “We give Stinky this ticket, we hope the announcement hasn’t been made yet, we hope he _takes_ it, we have a back-up plan in case he doesn’t, now that we got this-” He lifted up the remote. “We get that badge, then we still gotta find Skunkape. How’re we gonna find ‘im? Or the toys for that matter? He could have ‘em by now for all we know!”

“I have a plan. Or- an _idea_ of a plan, anyway. Whether or not it works is up in the air, but it’s better than nothin’.” With that, the DeSoto squealed to a halt not too far from Stinky’s Diner, and they exited the vehicle. “Here’s hopin’ he’ll listen t’ reason…”

“Him? Reason?”

“...Correction - let’s hope he’ll listen t’ reason for 700 million dollars.”

They headed into the diner, and- “ _YOU!_ ” Oh boy, here they go- “Ye both got a _LOT_ of _BALLS_ t’ step back into _MY_ place after the goddamn _bullshit_ ye pulled, ye fuckin’ thief, ye _absolute_ -”

“I understand, I’m sorry, I do feel bad-” Sam started saying.

“Ye _OUGHT_ t’ be sorry, ye lousy mongrel-”

“-I was hopin’ t’ make it up to ya’ with this ticket here-”

“Ah don’t want yer stupid ticket! Nobody ever wins the _damned_ things anyw-”

Just in time, the radio, once playing music, suddenly switched off, and a male voice came on. “ _We interrupt this program for a breaking news bulletin: officials for the city’s 700 million dollar lottery jackpot drawing have announced that there is one winning ticket, sold to unemployed and somewhat pathetic Moleopolis resident, Harry Moleman._ ” Pause. “ _...This just in - in a surprising upset, we’re told that the winning ticket was transferred to local diner owner Grandpa Stinky. Sorry, Harry Moleman! Better luck next time!_ ”

“...Did ye hear that?” Grandpa Stinky said quietly, almost sounding slightly in disbelief. It quickly turned to joy as he continued, “Ah _TOLD_ ye Ah would win!” He whooped delightfully.

Deciding to test the waters, Sam gestured to the badge still sitting on the counter. “So if I asked about that-”

“Take it! Ah don’ give a shite aboot it anyway. Idiot with ‘is ‘sympathies’ an’ ‘is, ‘ _ooh, Ah’m so sorry fer my dumb assistants, take this as an apology-_ ’ Pah! Worthless. Take it - take it ye moron, ye want it so badly - after today, Ah never need t’ worry aboot money again!”

“You certainly didn’t need t’ tell me twice.” The dog picked up the badge. “Have a good day, Grandpa Stinky.”

“Oh, piss off.”

The Freelance Police exited the diner. “...Well,” Max said, “That was pretty easy.”

“It was.”

“So. This plan of yours? _Idea_ of a plan?”

“Oh, right-” He gestured for the lagomorph to follow him to the car. He stopped by the front seat where Carol was sitting on the dashboard, and said, “I know this isn’t the _orthodox_ way of usin’ a scanner-”

“Since when is _anything_ about us orthodox?”

“-But I was thinkin’ maybe-” Sam pulled out the receipt remnant, “-We could scan this and _possibly_ find out where it came from.”

“Y’know what, I ain’t even gonna doubt you. ‘Cause it seems like every solution we come up with works anyway, so I have no reason _not_ t’ think it won’t right now.”

Sam placed the receipt piece on the scanner, and after some electronic noises as she processed it, he received a low beep followed by an X on the screen.

“Well, shit.”

“Thanks for the jinx, Max. Really appreciate it.”

“Well- now hang on, maybe it _does_ work, it just...needs more. I mean, a sixth of a receipt really _isn’t_ a whole lot, Sam.”

“Maybe you’re right, but what the hell else could we put with it? None of these things I have are relevant.”

Shortly after he said that, they heard the fluttering of wings, and looked up to see a pigeon with some sort of card in its little beak, landing on a nearby telephone pole.

“...You seein’ what I’m seein’?” Sam asked.

“Uh-huh.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Sam eventually canted his head slightly.

“...” Max groaned loudly. “Son of a-”

Fifteen minutes later, the lagomorph was climbing back down, card in hand, his fur slightly disheveled from spending a third of that time fighting the damn bird. He looked like he’d aged ten years.

“...Screw you, Sam.”

“That’s fair.” The dog took the card from him (and Max’s hand remained in its position, too tired to even drop it back by his side at that moment) and looked it over. “Seems like it’s a vintage postcard from a rare toy collector. Hopefully this’ll work.”

“I’d say ‘it better’ after what I just went through t’ get it, but God forbid I say anything without the universe hatin’ me.”

Sam put the vintage card on Carol, waiting as she scanned it over. Eventually, a mini-map showed up on her screen, which eventually landed on one certain area. The text ‘HARD LUCK PAWN SHOP’ appeared in the left-hand bottom corner.

The dog sighed with relief. “Thank goodness. C’mon, let’s go.” He was about to get in, noticed Max standing, unmoving, then casually picked him up and plopped him into the passenger seat, before hopping in the driver’s side.

. . .

Odd. _He_ didn’t show up as Girl Stinky had originally thought he would. He agreed over the phone to meet…Oh well. If there was only _one_ person she could safely say she trusted, it was him. If he didn’t end up showing, clearly something must have come up. Still, even as she approached the diner once again, she found herself pulling out her phone, prepared to call him back. It just didn’t seem _like_ him to not show and not call-

“Your grandfather-” The deep voice startled her admittedly, making her freeze up. “-Is quite the man, isn’t he?” She took a moment to regain her composure, and slowly turned to face- ugh, whatever the space gorilla with the weird tube sticking out of his forehead was. She never quite caught it when he landed, and frankly, she couldn’t have cared less. She raised an unimpressed brow at him, which was only met with a pleasant, passive look.

“He’s something, alright.” She shut her phone and crossed her arms. “Can I _help_ you?”

“You Earthlings - so _cynical_. You assume each interaction comes with strings attached.”

Stinky merely hummed. Like she could even be _bothered_ entertaining this guy with this- _act_ . Who was he even trying to fool? Looking all polite with his damn hands behind his back- “Yeah. Uh-huh. Anyway-” She turned back around, prepared to continue walking away from this creep. “I’ve got more _important_ things to do than waste time with small talk.”

“Ah, yes. The diner. It _is_ awfully lovely. Is it yours?”

She stopped, sighed with an eye roll, then looked at him with a forced smile. “Yeah. It is.”

“Funny. _He_ said it was _his_ restaurant.” 

Her forced smile slowly dropped. “...He’s an old man. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You are quite the liar.”

“And you’re not much better,” she snapped back. She quickly realized what the implications behind that were, and promptly backtracked, “I mean- _me?_ I’m no liar. I’m just a girl trying to run a tough business. That’s it.”

“There is no point in continuing this charade.” She clenched her jaw at that statement. “It is just the two of us.”

“Yeah?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why don’t _you_ cut the crap and tell me what you _actually_ want, then.”

“You consider getting rid of him. Your grandfather.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. He phrased it as though it was a statement he knew for sure. And she wasn’t going to lie, that was unnerving.

She shifted her feet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You were _happier_ when he was not around. There is a large part of you that wants things to return to that.” She tilted her head downwards slightly, but kept eye contact. He chuckled, and continued, “I understand - the less you say the better. But believe me when I say I am sympathetic to these dark wishes of yours.”

“Of _course_ you are,” she replied, sounding incredibly doubtful.

“Oh, I understand how hard dealing with family can be,” he said, nodding solemnly, then glanced upwards towards the sky, shaking his head. “I could never get along with my father, personally. Always had such high expectations of me.” She remained silent, and he lowered his head to look her in the eye again. “The day he was finally _gone_ was one of the _best_ days of my life.”

She shouldn’t have cared. She shouldn’t have cared at all. It was so _clear_ that he was full of shit, and the fact that he was claiming to just _know_ about her plans gave her absolutely no reason to trust this guy. And yet, she felt compelled to ask, “Why are you even bothering to tell me any of this? Why do you think I even care for that matter?”

“Because I think you will find that your days in the diner might be numbered.”

That made her shoot a glare at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Those Freelance Police-” Ugh, _those_ guys. Of _course_ . “-Came in not that long ago and got your grandfather _quite_ the amount of wealth. 700 million, I believe it was?”

“...What? How the hell did he-” She stopped herself there, pausing for a moment, thinking, before scoffing lightly. “...It’s not _that_ much money.”

“I may not be of your planet, but I am no idiot. I think we both know that is enough to push you right out if he pleased.”

“He _wouldn’t_ . He’s- he’s not- he’s _smarter_ than that-”

“The smarter decision would _absolutely_ be to take you out of the equation. Prevent you from taking over his restaurant like you have for the past five years. But it does not have to _be_ that way.”

She finally fell silent, her lips pulled into a tight frown, brows knitting together. Common sense was still yelling at her not to friggin’ _trust_ this guy - and she absolutely did _not_ \- but there was a part of her that was growing a little panicked by the notion that she would be shoved out. And ultimately, that part mixed with her ambition to succeed in her plan was enough to make her ask, “And what do I get out of helping you?”

“Power. Wealth. Everything you could ever hope for.”

“And what do _you_ get out of it?”

“Again - not _everything_ comes with strings attached.”

Stinky stared at Skun-ka’pe for a long moment, the wheels in her head turning in her mind. She slowly turned around and started walking towards the diner again.

“If you change your mind,” he called after her, “My ship is _right_ here.” He watched her vanish into the diner, twirling the magic playing card between his fingers behind his back before slipping it away.

He didn’t need it to know she _would_ change her mind.

. . .

When Sam and Max pulled up to the Hard Luck Pawn Shop, there was yet another space gorilla parked in front of the door. “Ya’ gonna perform a hit and run on this one too, Sam?”

“I’d rather not dent the DeSoto anymore than I have, frankly.”

“Ugh. Well, that’s no fun.” While Sam was busy looking thoughtfully at the alien, he slowly looked around at their surroundings, taking note of everything, mentally stringing things together. “...I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” Sam asked, looking at him. “Lay it on me.”

Not too long after, Sam found himself standing in front of an open manhole, tossing a banana peel he’d gotten from the trash onto the cover he’d pulled off, making direct eye contact with the space gorilla as he said, “Down with Skunkape! Space gorillas go home!”

The gorilla shot him a glare. “ _Hey!_ ” He approached the dog, getting so close their faces were nearly touching. “You shouldn’t be _littering-_ ”

“SURPRISE!” the lagomorph shouted joyfully as he hopped up and slammed two garbage can lids on either side of the alien’s head. The space gorilla proceeded to fall straight into the open manhole.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

“An oldie, but a goodie!”

“Let’s go see what gruesome there was standin’ guard for.” They went into the pawn shop, and when they came out, they now had a toy paddle ball. “...Must’ve tossed it out when he realized it wasn’t magical,” Sam said as they exited.

“What does this mean for us?”

“Thankfully, another means t’ find him - assuming Carol’s able t’ get anything off it.”

. . .

And thankfully, it did. Between the receipt and the paddle ball, they found themselves arriving at a toy store - one called _Bob’s Toys!s_ to be precise. “The extra S is for ‘Sorry about the misspelled sign’,” Max commented.

“There’s no sign of Skunkape anywhere…” His attention turned to the sign on the door that read ‘WILL RETURN’ with a picture of a clock underneath. “Of course. New York’s lackadaisical business hours win again. So he might be back…”

“What are we gonna do once he shows up?”

“Hmm. I dunno.”

“Good plan.”

Ignoring the last comment, Sam stood next to him at the store window, hands in his pockets. “Feelin’ anything from any of these?”

“No, not really. Maybe it’s inside.”

He hummed. “Maybe.” Pause. “...Maybe you oughta use that future vision.”

“What? Why?”

“I just got a feeling. Besides, we don’t want Skunkape t’ get the drop on us, right?”

“Eh, fair, I guess.” He proceeded to take out the viewfinder and put it to his eyes.

_“So you have found me at last, Freelance Police! That will make everything so much easier. And you have brought the elusive toy right to me…”_

Uh-oh. That didn’t seem like great news. Max waited for the blurriness and spots in his vision to clear, ready to warn Sam about-

There was deep laughter that prompted both of them to turn around. Approaching them was General Skun-ka’pe, along with several of his minions.

“Uh-oh,” Max said quietly, eyes wide.

“So you have found me at _last_ , Freelance Police! That will make everything so much _easier_ .” He ignored the sharp glare he was receiving from Sam as he proceeded to snatch the viewfinder right out of the lagomorph’s hands. “And you have brought the elusive toy _right_ to me…”

Wait...where was Girl Stinky? She was on the ship in Max’s original future vision, but she wasn’t _there_ at this moment. The future couldn’t have change _that_ much since then, could it? She might’ve been on the ship already, but-

The nearest gorilla knocked out Sam with one swift hit. And immediately after that, Max knew he couldn’t risk them _both_ getting locked up without a means of escape.

“Whoa, _WHOA!_ ” he promptly said as the same gorilla that knocked out Sam was winding up to do the same to him. “Hang on just a second- you really gonna knock _me_ out? I mean _come oooon_ , I’m just a li’l guy!” Oddly enough, the space gorilla hesitated, and the others - Skun-ka’pe included - were looking at him with raised brows. Feeling a little bit of _hope_ for this last minute plan, he continued, “I mean- look at me! I’m 3’4”, I’m so _small!_ I’m just a teeny-weeny li’l guy - and it’s my birthday! You ain’t gonna hit a _birthday_ boy, are ya’?”

The alien that had been planning to knock his lights out had now lowered his fist, looking over at General Skun-ka’pe, completely baffled. Skun-ka’pe narrowed his amber eyes at him before a smug smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. He gestured for his minion to stand down before stepping forward. “You’re just a _pathetic_ little thing, are you?”

Normally Max would’ve gotten mad at a comment like that - and, yeah, okay, he was _very_ mad, actually - but he could tell that this was some sort of test. So between clenched teeth in an attempt not to _leap_ at that damned ape and start ripping into him, he said, “Yup! Sure am! I’m just an itty-bitty wittle bunny boy, that’s all!” He batted his eyelids, and tried to ignore the downright _creepy_ way Skun-ka’pe’s smile was now wide and showing teeth that could almost - _almost_ \- rival Max’s.

The pale-furred space gorilla laughed loudly, and the lagomorph feigned a laugh, trying not to sound as nervous as he frankly was. Skun-ka’pe turned to his minions and said, “Escort this one to my ship. Place him on the throne as well-” ‘As well’!? Oh _crap-_ “And make sure you bring the dog with you.”

Without a word, one space gorilla picked up Sam’s unconscious body and hung him over his shoulder, while two others positioned themselves behind and in front of Max and started moving, prompting him to move with them.

  
 _Ohhh_ , they were _REALLY_ in it now.


	5. Really In It Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're really in it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i completely forgot to mention this but it needs to be known that this chapter starts on the 69th page on my google doc for it)

As Sam slowly began to come to, the first things he felt were the cold metal floor and the throbbing of his head, the first thing he saw was greys and blues blurred together as his eyes fought to open, and the first things he heard was-

“Could you get your gigantic feet  _ off _ of me!?”

“Uh, excuse you, my gigantic feet are not  _ on _ you, they are on the  _ arm chair _ -”

“I don’t care, stop it and stay on  _ your _ side-”

“Would the both of you knock it off, or  _ so _ help me,  _ I will TURN THIS SHIP AROUND! _ ”

At the unmistakable shouting of General Skun-ka’pe, Sam found his eyes opening widely, darting around to find himself in some place completely foreign. He scrambled to his feet and, without even yet processing that he was in a cell, found himself gripping at the bars and peering out of them, craning his head to see- ...Max sitting with Girl Stinky on that weird high-chair thing near Skun-ka’pe’s steering?

The lagomorph was clearly draped across Stinky’s lap on his back and sighed dramatically, before switching his position so that he was draped across Stinky’s lap on his  _ stomach _ now so that he was looking at Skun-ka’pe, the girl scoffing with annoyance. “Aww, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” he said in this...weird, cutesy voice Sam had never heard him speak in before. “I didn’t mean to make you upset, honeycakes.”  _ Honeycakes!? _ What the  _ f- _

The space gorilla glanced at him, blinking. “...It is... _ fine _ ,” he replied awkwardly, before turning back to what he was doing - which was destroying several buildings in New York City.

Good  _ lord _ , Sam had never actually  _ shook _ with  _ rage _ before, and if it were possible for his knuckles to turn  _ white _ from gripping the metal bars too tightly, they would’ve. It took all of his effort not to immediately  _ shout _ Max’s name - and even then, he sort of whispered-yelled it. “ _ Max! _ ” He saw Max’s ears twitch, followed shortly with him turning to look at the dog. “ _ Max, come here! _ ”

“I’ll be right back,” Max murmured to Stinky. “Keep my seat warm!”

“Ugh,” Stinky shook her head as he hopped off the throne, “Take your time.”

“Max!” Sam whispered again as Max got close enough to his cell. “What the hell are you doi- is that a goddamn popsicle!?”

“I got dehydrated.”

“Oh my G- how did  _ you _ end up out  _ there _ , while I’m in  _ here!? _ ”

“I dunno. Just appealed to that big furry monster, I guess.”

The dog heaved a huge sigh through his nose, brows furrowed deeply, and shook his head. “Whatever. Just get me out of here and let’s finish what we started.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Just a second.” He proceeded to shove the popsicle in his mouth, then gripped onto Sam’s jacket sleeve with one hand while pulling out the toy phone with the other.

“...What?” Max’s eyes were lingering on the phone. “Max, what is it?” To Sam’s surprise, Max put the phone away and let go of his sleeve. “What’re y- hey!” Max’s hands had darted into his jacket, and before the dog could stop him, he was pulling out the badge and remote for the Dimensional Destabilizer. “What the hell are you-!?”

As soon as Max put the items away, he took the popsicle out of his mouth and said, “Sorry, Sam. This is somethin’  _ I _ gotta do.”

“What the fuck are you goin’ on ab-” Before he even finished his sentence, the lagomorph was walking away, chewing off the last piece of the popsicle and tossing away the stick. “ _ MAX! _ ” he barked angrily.

_ Yeeeah _ , here was the thing - Max realized there was no way he could free Sam without possibly alerting Skun-ka’pe. The guy was  _ right _ there - there was no way he wouldn’t hear or sense that Max was using his powers, and then they’d have lost the element of surprise that they needed in order to get the prisoner’s badge on him. And Max didn’t spend all that effort acting all  _ cute _ and saying crap like  _ ‘honeycakes’ _ just to have it wasted all because there was this-  _ obligation _ to have Sam with him. No - this was  _ his _ case. Stinky was distracted by her phone, Skun-ka’pe was busy blowing up buildings with the ship’s lasers…

He could do this part himself.

He slowly began to tip-toe towards the space gorilla, slowly pulling out the badge. He could  _ do _ this. All he had to do was get close enough, put it on him, then press the button, and then he could find those toys and-

“Did you  _ really _ think it would be  _ that _ easy,  _ Mr. President? _ ”

Max found himself freezing up in his spot at the words, staring wide-eyed at the back of Skun-ka’pe’s head. The alien slowly turned to face him, a devious smile on his expression. He continued; “Did you  _ legitimately _ think that I was  _ that _ much of a moron as to buy into that sad act of yours?”

“...Uhhh-”

“Even if I  _ did _ -” He pulled out the viewfinder, along with the playing card that allowed him to read minds and the rhinoplasty that allowed him to shapeshift into any object - both of which Max could identify because of his initial vision. He lifted up the viewfinder and card specifically. “ _ These _ came in  _ very _ handy.”

“...Yeah. I...could see how…”

“Oh, is that the badge?” Max seemed to snap out of his surprised stupor at that. “Let me guess - you were planning on sending me back to the Penal Zone?” Right, he was going to do that- why the hell was he just  _ standing _ there!? “Well, I’m afraid that will not be happening,  _ Max _ .”

The space gorilla turned around- and getting over his shock, Max immediately started sprinting towards him with a yell-

And that yell suddenly turned into one of surprise as he found himself being sucked upwards into an interdimensional gateway, only just being able to hear Sam shout his name before it seemed as if all sound was sucked away, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable silence as he landed on his back with a slight grunt. Thankfully, the landing was not as hard as he’d thought it would be - but the sight around him was still enough to make him get to his feet, glancing this way and that.

To his eyes, he was surrounded by clouds of dark blues and pale yellows, and he figured it was safe to guess from the slightly unnerving feeling he felt that this was probably the Penal Zone with which Skun-ka’pe was meant to- wait, what the hell was that beeping?

With a twitch of his ears, Max turned around and- holy  _ shit _ that was a bomb! Skun-ka’pe must have thrown it in after him and- oh God, it only had a few seconds,  _ uhhHH _ , quick,  _ QUICK _ , pull out phone, turn dial-  _ only six seconds, HHH _ \- doesn’t  _ MATTER _ which number, just  _ turn dial _ , pick up  _ PHONE, PUT TO EAR NOW- _

At first it was bright behind his tightly shut eyelids, a roaring in his ears.

And then it was black. And there was hardly a sound at all.

He took in a few deep breaths, trying to steady his heartbeat, the question of if he actually went and died crossing his mind for a fleeting second before he  _ slooowly _ peeked open an eye, as if the explosion were a monster that’d attack only when he opened it-

And he found himself in Mama Bosco’s lab.

Max slowly opened his other eye, still breathing heavily through his mouth. He put the phone back on the receiver. And put the phone away. And the ringing in his ears finally cleared enough for him to overhear Mama Bosco and Agent Superball speaking.

“...Detected a spike in anti-matter radiation...”

“...Does that mean for the Penal Zone?”

“Not quite sure- ...Max?”

The lagomorph blinked, looking over at them. Even Superball’s brows were raised in slight surprise, though they went down back into a neutral expression quickly.

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Uh...yeah. Thanks,” Max barely spoke above a mumble.

“Are you alright?” Mama Bosco asked with a tone of concern. “You look frazzled...and where’s Sam?”

Although his mind was still sort of reeling from the  _ near-death experience _ he’d just had, he forced himself to start speaking, walking towards the elevator and going down as he did so. “Well, uh- Sam’s in a cage on that alien spaceship-”

“Oh no…”

“-And, uh, as for  _ ME _ , I just nearly got blown up by an anti-matter bomb while in the Peni- Penne-  _ that _ Zone.”

Superball’s brows furrowed. “Oh dear. Are you saying you failed to contain General Skun-ka’pe?”

“What’s it sound like to you?” Pause. “...That was a li’l snappy, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted, sir. But I’m afraid that if the Penal Zone is destroyed, then there’s no way to contain General Skun-ka’pe.”

“Ugh,” Max said in annoyance. “Well that  _ blows _ . What the hell’s the point of an alternate-dimension-prison-thingy if it can just be  _ blown up _ just like that?” Pause. “...Pun not intended by the way.”

“Well,” Mama Bosco spoke up, a gloved hand on her chin. “I wouldn’t say there’s  _ no _ way to contain him. You  _ could _ make  _ another _ Penal Zone somewhere else.”

Max raised a brow at her. “I don’t know where you’re goin’ with this, and I probably ain’t gonna understand a damn word, but consider me intrigued nonetheless.”

“Before I made the Destabilizer,” she started explaining, “I was working on a Dimensional Rift Generator.” She gestured to the table where a machine with a lightbulb, a pedal and a plug was residing. “It doesn’t open a gateway to another dimension - it actually  _ creates _ another dimension!”

The lagomorph gave a sharp-toothed grin, picking up the device by the handle. “Neat!”

“Only problem is, you’ll have to find a nexus of ley lines somewhere for it to work - a place where the borders between reality and nonsense have broken down.”

“There happens to be one of those in the city, ma’am,” Superball chimed in. “It’s at 1313 Straight Street.”

“1313 Straight Str-” Max’s ears straightened, his eyes lighting up. “That’s our- Sam’s-  _ our _ apartment building!”

“In that case, I’d suggest you pick the place you create the dimension carefully,” Mama Bosco said. “‘Cause as soon as you make one, that part of the building won’t technically exist anymore.”

“ _ Ehhh _ , I’m sure there’s an old broom closet I can toss it in. Oh! Or the landlord’s apartment! Now  _ that _ would be funny!”

“Wherever you put it, just plug the Generator in and press the pedal. After that, it works just like the Destabilizer. The only trick is finding enough power for it.”

“ _ Wooould _ a  _ power core _ do the job?”

“Even if I  _ did _ get that back, no. It’d take a hundred of those just to power this thing. It’s, uh...over there. With the other inventions that are a deadly radiation hazard.”

“Oh. Should I be worried about holding this thing for too long?”

“Not so long as you don’t do something like lick it.”

“...Well now I  _ want _ t’ lick it.”

“Don’t. Just get it to your building, plug it in - and make sure you don’t turn it on until you’ve got that badge on General Skun-ka’pe.”

“Sure thing, Doc! Thanks a bunch.” He turned to start heading towards the elevator.

“Max?”

He turned back around and looked up at her. “Yeah?”

“Just...be  _ careful _ , alright?”

“Hey, c’mon - don’t worry about it! I got it! Honest!” He started to make his leave once again, ignoring the still-worried expression on Mama Bosco’s face.

. . .

Due to the lack of a car, Max had to cut a corner by teleporting to Sybil’s office phone, which-  _ hoo boy _ , he  _ definitely _ felt the vertigo on that one, and tried not to vomit as he drove from the toy store that they had last stopped at and sped down to the apartment. (Damn, when  _ was _ the last time Sam let him drive? It felt like it’d been years ago…Probably  _ was _ years ago, actually.)

The inside of the building was...wow. It looked like  _ shit _ . Bits of the ceiling had fallen out, wires were hanging out of the walls. The place looked completely trashed, and this was just the  _ lobby _ . He found himself tempted to go up the stairs, up to the very top floor where his-  _ Sam’s _ office was- No. No, come  _ on _ , Maximiliano,  _ focus! _ The entire  _ world _ is relying on- Whoa, that crevice in the floor is  _ massive _ , and...was there light coming from it?

Intrigued, the lagomorph got on his hands and knees and decided to poke his head in. It mostly seemed like a bunch of rock at first - then he clued in that it was a tunnel. Tilting his head slightly, he decided to slide in, curious as to why the hell there was a tunnel just randomly underneath the building.

The tunnel, though certainly still dark, wasn’t pitch black like one would expect thanks to the bright light that was at the bottom. Max had to crawl uncomfortably on his elbows and knees, keeping his head ducked and his ears lowered, until the tunnels were open wide enough for him to at least get to his feet and hunch over. After another minute or two, he finally reached the end of the tunnel, dusting the bits of stone out of his palms and off his knees, and-

Oh  _ God _ .

It was...hard to describe what he was seeing, but the best way he could put it was there were candles lit, a bunch of old pieces of wood nailed together with strange carvings in them, weird... _ molemen statues _ holding up some of those weird carvings, and- ...was that the vague shape of his head made up of rusted metal, wooden planks and a saw? Was- was this a shrine? Was that what this was?

The, uh...molemen with strange robes humming wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“Hey, uh- excuse me?” Max spoke up, startling the two molemen standing in front of...frankly, Max couldn’t see  _ what _ it was they were standing in front of. “I’m just lookin’ for a place t’ plug my, uh... _ phone _ in-”

“Intruder!” one moleman shouted. “He’s come to defile the Toybox!  _ Kill h- _ ”

“No, wait, brother!” the other said, placing a hand on the first one’s shoulder, “It’s him! The rabbit! Just as prophesied!”

Ah, great, another damn prophecy. He really ought to start charging some sort of fee for these things. “Yeah, that’s, uh...great,” he said, deadpan. “Look, I  _ really _ gotta plug this thing in, it’s kind of import-”

If one has ever felt the feeling of being struck by lighting - well, that’s really unfortunate. But it described how Max felt suddenly when the molemen shifted just  _ slightly _ off to the side to expose what Max could only assume was the Toybox one of them had just yelled about. It felt a lot like how he’d felt with the viewfinder and telephone, yet...at the same time it felt very, very different.

The Toybox had bright yellow patterns dance across its surface as soon as he laid eyes on it, and it seemed like there was absolutely nothing else in the universe but  _ him _ and  _ it _ . It felt as if it had him tied up in rope and was yanking him towards it, and yet inviting him gently over to it. Either way, he was oddly okay with it. As soon as he reached it, he laid his hands on the wood, and the energy that went through him felt not like a surge that it had the last two times, but as if a soft, harmless flame had enveloped his entire body. It was as if this power was always his to have. It  _ was _ always his. He had the Gift. This was ri͝ght͟fu̧lly  _ his _ …

Slowly and carefully, as if the Toybox were made of thin glass that would shatter with too sudden of movements, he hovered a thumb over the latch-

“No!” The lagomorph looked swiftly and sharply at the moleman that had dared to try and stop him, causing him to flinch and back off some. “You- you can’t open it. Not yet. It would give General Skun-ka’pe unimaginable power that would destroy us all!”

The lagomorph stared at him for a long time before blinking, inhaling a breath through his nose and exhaling deeply. Wait...where the hell was he again? Oh, right - under the apartment. He looked at the Toybox and removed his hands, quickly moving away from it. Ugh - he didn’t precisely know what the hell just happened, but he had a vague idea and it was making him sick to his damn stomach. This wasn’t at all like the toys - this was... _ much _ more powerful.

Max breathed another small sigh before turning to face the molemen. “Alright, let’s cut to the chase - who are you, what is that-” he pointed to the Toybox over his shoulder before placing it on his own chest, “-And what the hell did it just try t’ do t’ me?”

“I am Obediah -  _ he _ -” The moleman gestured to his partner, “-Is Jebidiah. We are the Boxists - the last keepers of the True Way.”

“While our brothers have succumbed to the siren song of secular America, with its basalt-rich tunnels and specialty coffees, only  _ we _ remain to act as Guardians of the Box-”

“Yeah, cool,” Max interrupted, “Look, I’m  _ interested _ , but on a time limit, so could we hurry this up a bit?”

“We have guarded the Toybox for several generations - specifically so that  _ you _ could arrive and wield the unfathomable power it holds.”

Clearly reciting some passage he’d memorized, Jebidiah spoke, “ _ ‘And yea, the Devil Bunny, knowing not his true purpose, would unlock the mysteries of the Toybox.’ _ ”

“...Uh-huh,” the lagomorph said, looking doubtful yet somewhat fascinated as well. “And I’m guessin’ I was almost about t’ fulfill that prophecy a little too early, huh.”

“The Toybox is very tempting indeed,” Obediah stated with a nod. “It is of no surprise that you would feel lured in just by the sight of it.”

Yeah,  _ lured in _ certainly was right. Max felt like he had to avoid looking at it directly just to keep a clear head. “So, uh...what’s in it?”

“No one is certain. Many scrolls say that it holds tools that could bring about the end of times if they fall into the wrong hands.”

“Others however,” Jebidiah said casually, “Say toys.”

“...Cool. Anyway, I’ll get back to ya’ on that. Maybe.” Max proceeded to walk past them, leaving them to whatever weird rituals they were performing. God, hopefully he could get rid of this strange feeling the Toybox had given him - he’d be damned if it distracted him from his task.

Exploring the underneath of the apartment for a second, he found two things - one, the exit to the sewer which he and Sam couldn’t access (Poor Sam. He wondered how he was holding up right now), and two, a conveniently placed outlet next to the hundred-year-old boiler that probably did more as a safety than it did heat the building, but that was beside the point. He took out the Rift Generator and plugged it in.

The light bulb, unfortunately, did not light up.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself. Guess the power was out for the whole building. That was awfully unfortunate. He proceeded to look around this weird cave under the building for something that could give it an extra boost, but he couldn’t find anything with just his two eyes. “Hey,” he eventually said to the molemen, “Is there  _ any _ source of power down here at all?”

“No. None,” Obediah replied. “None other than the Box itself.”

“Well, gee, thanks for that, you freaky-” He stopped himself mid-sentence, a look of realization appearing on his face. Despite his  _ really _ not wanting to, he looked at the Toybox, with its weird smiley face, vaguely outlet-looking symbol, to the giant cable nearby… “...On a scale of one to very, how bad of an idea would it be to plug that-” He pointed at the cable, “-Into there,” he pointed at the Toybox.

The two molemen looked at each other, looked at the cable, looked at the Toybox, looked at each other again, then looked at Max. “Uhhh-”

“Perfect!” Max said with a toothy grin. Shortly after, he was yanking the cable out to expose the plug and putting it right into the Toybox, ignoring the feeling of something poking at his frontal lobe. Looking over at the Generator, he saw the purple bulb shining brightly, and fist-pumped excitedly with a “ _ YES! _ Okay-” He pulled out the toy telephone and turned it to Stinky’s cell, and put the phone to his ear. “Now to try this part…”

. . .

“...again.”

He appeared on the side of the throne - the side that Skun-ka’pe couldn’t see - and as he put the phone away, he could hear the space gorilla grunt. He must have sensed or heard something, but-

“ _ What? _ ” Girl Stinky asked, annoyed. “Don’t you have planets to blow up or something?”

There was a moment of silence after that, and Max perked his ears to get a better listen. “...My apologies,” Skun-ka’pe eventually said. “I could have sworn I heard something.”

“Whatever.”

Max waited a few moments before deciding it was safe to assume the alien had turned his attention back to destroying the city. He glanced over to Sam’s cage, and though he couldn’t see him, he could just pick up the sound of the dog pacing. He considered for a moment going over just to let him know he was okay, but he got the feeling Sam wouldn’t be all that happy to see him after what he just did.

He peered around the throne and looked at Skun-ka’pe, who indeed had his back turned. He  _ could _ have attempted to do the same thing he did last time, but he had a feeling it would go about as smoothly as before. He needed a distraction, he needed…

He glanced upwards towards the upper deck, looking at Gordon, then with one quick glance towards the space gorilla again to make sure he wasn’t- okay, good, he wasn’t looking, time to  _ bolt _ .

“Max!” the brain said cheerfully, as soon as Max entered onto the upper deck, “You survived! Have you returned with a...how do I put this tactfully... _ better _ thought-out plan?”

“My plan was working  _ just _ fine!” Max said defensively, crossing his arms. “He just happened to be immune to my charm. That’s fine, it’s not for everyone, even though it kinda sorta is-”

“ _ Please _ just answer the question.”

“Ugh, fine. No, not really. My plan’s pretty much just slap the badge on ‘im and go. I need help, though - a distraction.”

Gordon paused for a moment, which Max would have found odd if he wasn’t busy glancing at the space gorilla again just to make sure he wasn’t looking. “...I could certainly do that. Here - make sure you grab Sam’s belongings before you go.” Max looked over at the sound of a nearby compartment whirring, revealing only Sam’s revolver. The lagomorph did as he was instructed, though, and picked it up. “Make sure you-  _ oof _ \- make sure you approach him during the distraction so he won’t hear you coming.”

At the alien brain sounding strangely out of breath, Max’s ears perked. “...Are you okay?”

“I will admit...Skun-ka’pe has me running everything at full power. It’s...very draining. Do not be concerned for me,” he quickly said when Max opened his mouth to speak. “Just do as I say - head down to the lower deck, and approach during the distraction.”

“Are ya’ sure? I don’t want you risking your health to-”

“I am not risking anything. I am aware of what I am doing. This is my choice. Now  _ go _ ,” Gordon urged.

The lagomorph frowned uncertainly, but took Sam’s revolver and head back to the lower deck nonetheless. As soon as he exited the door to the lower deck, however, he was nearly thrown off his feet by the ship suddenly jerking.

“What!?” Skun-ka’pe said, shocked, and in the brief moment he had, Max quickly ran and ducked near the ship’s steering before the gorilla turned around to look at the alien brain. “What are you  _ DOING!? _ ”

“I have had _ENOUGH_ of your cruel games, Skun-ka’pe!” Gordon retorted, his voice shaky but strong. “I _refuse_ to be used like a _tool_ _ANY_ longer!” Sparks flew from his tank, and soon the brain stopped glowing, sinking to the bottom of his tank. Before he even hit the bottom, the blue lights had switched to red, an alarm blaring as an electronic voice said, ‘EMERGENCY. ENGINE FAILURE. EMERGENCY…’

“ _ NO! _ ” Skun-ka’pe growled. “Not in my moment of  _ TRIUMPH! _ ” He gave a vicious frustrated snarl as he turned around to slam a fist down on the control panel. And Max, carefully, sneakily, managed to attach the badge to his belt, and darted away as the space gorilla let out an angered roar.

Not too long after Max returned to his hiding place behind the throne, he heard a spark going over by the prisons, followed by the sound of the cage being aggressively slid open, Sam storming out immediately after. He immediately made eye contact with the lagomorph, and approached him.

“Sam,” Max said, “I can expl-”

The dog snatched his revolver from him and shoved it into his coat, then, without looking at Max, put a hand on his head. “Just get us outta here, numbnuts.”

Max gave an annoyed huff at the demand, but pulled out the phone, teleporting them back to Sybil’s phone.

. . .

  
  


“This way.” Max made a gesture for Sam to follow him as they reached the end of the tunnel. The dog said nothing - just as he had since they arrived outside the apartment building - and simply brushed himself off.

“Oh!” Obediah said upon seeing the dog. “It’s him! The dog of th-”

Max held a hand to the moleman’s face, and said, “Yeah, save it for later, he’s in a mood.” As the duo continued walking, he said, “I’ll explain them and the wooden crate there to ya’ after. You should’ve been there, it was- oh. Sorry, I-”

“Whatever,” Sam interrupted as they stopped in front of the Rift Generator, looking down at it. “Is this it?”

“It sure is! All ya’ gotta do is press the pedal and-” Sam stepped on the pedal, which immediately opened up a portal into the ceiling. “Okay! Straight to the point. Can’t say I blame ya’.”

At first there was nothing. And then the building started shaking, at first slightly, and then gradually it grew worse. Bits of stone and debris dislodged themselves and fell - and then suddenly a part of the underground exploded outwards as General Skun-ka’pe was suddenly flying through, forcing both Freelance Police to shield their eyes. Once they were able to look again, however, they saw Skun-ka’pe gripping onto an exposed metal pipe with his free hand, the other containing the toys that he’d had.

“God _ dammit _ ,” Sam cussed under his breath.

The space gorilla let out a mocking laugh. “Well  _ played _ , Sam and Max. But I’m  _ too strong _ \- in a few seconds, this gateway will close, and I will-” His eyes had darted off to the side for a moment, and then widened in shock. “...No...It  _ can’t _ be…” He was staring right at the Toybox. “The Devil’s Toybox?”

“Devil’s Toybox?” Max repeated with a raised brow.

“ _ Perfect! _ ” he said with that God awful toothy smile of his that Max  _ hated _ looking at. “You have led me right to the greatest prize of all! Soon your  _ bothersome _ dimensional rift will close. And I will take the Toybox-” He looked directly at Max and smiled even wider. “ _ AND _ the one who can control it.”

“Alright,” Sam pulled out his revolver and took aim. “I’ve had enough of this.”

Skun-ka’pe raised an amused brow. “Oh,  _ Sam _ . Do you really think a bullet will harm m-”

BAM- _ CHING!  _ Sam’s revolver fired, and the bullet ricocheted off of the metal piece attached to Skun-ka’pe’s head, and though it certainly did no damage, it was still enough to make the gorilla instinctively go to cover his eyes with his h-

_ His hands. _

  
“No, nononONONO _ NONO-! _ ” he yelled as he ended up letting go of both the toys and the pipe keeping him in place, and found himself desperately trying to dig his fingers into the rock and failing. His yells echoed the underground’s walls as he was sucked up into the portal feet first, sending dust and chunks of rock flying into the air, before his voice was cut off abruptly when the gateway closed.


	6. More Than Bargained For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come full circle as Sam and Max find themselves having the same argument they had the night before.

The Freelance Police stood - Max, wide-eyed in awe; Sam, slowly lowering his gun, the barrel of it still smoking - and were silent for a long few moments, staring at the space where the gateway - and Skun-ka’pe - had once been.

“...That…was…” A large, sharp-toothed, absolutely _overjoyed_ smile slowly spread on Max’s face. “ _SO COOL!_ ” The lagomorph proceeded to start bouncing and running around, making various hand gestures as he launched into Full Ramble Mode™. “HE REALLY WENT ‘HAHA, GOT YOU’ AND THEN I _SWOOOOSH_ RIGHT UP INTO THE PENIS ZONE AND THEN THERE WAS A BOMB, AND I WAS LIKE _OH FUCK OH GOD_ , AND-”

While Max was busy rambling, Sam simply put his revolver back in his jacket, and crossed his arms as he watched him as he continued rambling. His expression the whole time remained one with furrowed brows and a frown. This went on for a couple of minutes.

“-AND YOU WERE LIKE _‘not today’_ \- KER- _BLAM_ , AND THEN HE WAS LIKE _AHHHH_ AND WENT _HWOOP_ RIGHT IN-” Max let out a loud, euphoric laugh, flapping his hands excitedly before turning to Sam with that big smile. “WASN’T THAT GREAT!?”

“Uh-huh.”

At the dull response, mixed with him noticing Sam’s expression, caused that smile to falter. He gave an awkward laugh, then said, “You know...this is probably, like, the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Good for you.”

“You know, you say that, but you don’t really sound like you mean it.”

“Look, I’m happy for you. I’m happy you’re happy, and I’m glad that you had fun.”

“Y’see, you still don’t-”

“I’m tired,” he interrupted, “alright? Don’t worry about it.”

The lagomorph frowned at last. “...Sam, I only left you in that cage ‘cause I thought it’d be better-”

“It’s _fine_. I get it. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

Max couldn’t help but give a huff at Sam _once again_ not bothering to listen to him, crossing his arms and turning his back to him. His annoyed thoughts quickly escalated to ones of anger - why couldn’t Sam just be the _slightest_ bit happy for him!? Why’d it have to be about _HIM_ all the time!? - but when Max turned back around, with a finger held up and his mouth opening to let loose the aggravation he was feeling, Sam had already approached the Boxists, undoubtedly speaking with them to get up to speed with them.

His nose twitched slightly, then he huffed again, stomping a foot in frustration but lowering his hand and shutting his mouth. With furrowed brows, he stared at the ground, then began to look around. His annoyed look faded as he did a double-take towards a wall, noticing several bricks had collapsed and a large hole had been formed. With all the quaking of the underground, he wasn’t surprised that it was there. What _did_ surprise him, however, was the fact that it was _hollow_. As if there was a space behind it…

Now curious, the lagomorph decided to enter it. It seemed pretty at first - he could barely see a damn thing - but after a bit of squinting and continuing forwards, he could see a light, and...a projector screen? Indeed, as he got closer, what he was seeing was a projector on stacked wooden boxes with a screen set up in front of it, blank and white. The projector itself had a fascinating design - the front of it almost looked like an evil face, with the actual projector part sticking out of an open, sharp-toothed mouth. A reel was already placed in it.

And once again, he was feeling that _pull_ \- but it wasn’t like the other toys where he had entered autopilot. And he vaguely wondered if maybe the Toybox was to blame for that. Still, though, even that faint pull was enough for him to place a hand on it-

_As soon as the reel started turning, he felt some part of himself pulled through that screen. Suddenly he wasn’t in the underneath of the apartment building anymore, though it certainly felt just as cavernous and dark. Looking around, it reminded him of...ancient Egypt? It seemed like it anywa-_

_“Maximus, watch out!” an unfamiliar voice said, before he was yanked by the arm behind a stone structure. As he was, he heard a bullet whiz just past his ear - something he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar wi-_

_Wait...Maximus?_

_He stumbled a bit after being yanked, but managed to get his footing, the hand letting go of his arm. He looked at the person who did it, and...he looked so similar to Sam yet so different - mustache and fancy clothing, for one, but noticeably shorter, with fluffier ears - and he was peering around the edge, presumably at the person who attempted to shoot the lagomorph not that long ago. In his confusion, he looked down at himself, and saw the decent yet somewhat dirtied clothes he was wearing, the gloves that looked as if they once had fingers but were worn away with use, just judging by the tiny threads that were hanging out-_

_Holy shit. He_ was _Maximus. Which meant the dog must have been Sam’s great-grandpa Sameth...but how-?_

_“Are you alright?” He looked up quickly to see the dog looking at him with a concerned expression. Still a little dazed, he only gave a small nod, before noticing the Toybox under the other’s arm. He was almost glad to be able to look at it without feeling physically ill._

_There was another bullet that chipped off a piece of stone, making the dog flinch. Giving a low growl, Sameth put it down and pushed it towards him with his foot before drawing his pistol from his jacket-_

He snapped out of his weird trance suddenly, removing his hands from the astral projector (his mind felt inclined to put the word _astral_ there, now). “Whoa…” he murmured under his breath, looking over the toy projector. There were so many questions he had - why had he become his own great-grandfather just then? Why was the reel even _about_ his great-grandfather?

He found that excited smile returning, eager to figure out the answers - and with that excitement, he found himself compelled to call Sam over, having forgotten his annoyance towards him.

“Sam! Hey, Sam! Hey!” he started shouting as he ran out of the broken wall’s hole. Sam, conveniently enough, looked as though he was finished talking to the molemen, but Max didn’t really care either way. “Sam, c’mere, come look at this!” He didn’t even wait for the other to come over before disappearing through the hole again.

Without a word, Sam proceeded to walk over, ducking a bit to avoid hitting his head, holding his hat down with one hand. He eventually stood next to Max, who was standing next to the astral projector, bouncing up and down on his feet.

“Do y’ see this?” Max said, starting to ramble again. “It’s _so_ neat- so I touched it, and then the tape started going, and it was suddenly as if I was _in_ the movie, and I was my great-grandpa Maximus! It was _sooo_ cool, but I don’t know why there’d be tapes about him here- oh, and your great-grandpa Sameth was there too, but that’s besides the point. Clearly there’s more to this than just Skun-ka’pe, and I _really_ think we should figure out wha-”

“No.”

The deadpan response left Max feeling as if he’d been physically struck. He looked over at Sam with wide eyes, blinking. “...What was that?”

Sam looked back at him _still_ with that annoyed expression. “I said no, Max.”

The lagomorph paused, then gave a laugh, mostly out of disbelief. “Wh- I- Why not?”

“I just don’t want to, alright? I said I’d help with Skunkape, and I did, now I-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” As Sam had been talking, Max’s expression had gradually grown irritated again. “Just give me the straight answer, Sam.”

The dog stared at him, and he stared back. Eventually, Sam sighed, running a hand down his face before slapping it at his side, shaking his head and shrugging. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to piss me off even more, but congratulations - you did it.”

“Oh my God- you friggin’ liar. You _are_ mad about that.”

“Yeah, no shit I am. You really had the nerve to go and abandon me in a cage-”

“I didn’t _abandon_ you. I would’ve come back for you eventually! Seriously, Sam, I only did it because-”

“You _did_ it because you were-”

“I _DID IT_ because it was the _smart_ thing t’ do! _Monsieur Mallah_ there would’ve knew for _sure_ that I was up t’ somethin’ if I’d have teleported you out, so I just did it myself! I don’t know why y-”

“You could’ve _told_ me that, you jackass. Seriously, I only came with you because you said you wanted me to. If I knew you only wanted to blow more smoke up my ass, I would’ve thought twice.”

“Blow smoke up your- oh, you mean _that?_ The kissy faces and the pet names and th-”

“ _Yes_ , Max. _That_.”

“Well that’s a _you_ problem, Sam. You getting _weirdly_ insecure-”

“It’s not _weird_ -”

“-is a _YOU_ problem! The only goal _I_ had in _ALL_ of this was to keep that asshole from messing up Earth, Sam. Unlike _you_ , lately - Mr. ‘I’m gonna bail because I just don’t feel like doing this’ - I try to _care_ a li’l bit more. _Try_ t’ keep up, will ya’?”

“If you really think I don’t _care_ , then why the hell are you keepin’ me here? _Clearly_ you can figure this out yourself - you’ve just proven that - so what’s the point in me stayin’?”

“I-” That admittedly took Max by surprise - and he hated it. “I’m _not_ keepin’ you here-”

“You have had plenty of chances to let me go, and yet you have _insisted_ -”

“I haven’t insisted-”

“- _INSISTED_ I stay. So why? Why is that?”

“Because- ...because…” ...Why _did_ he ask Sam to come? Had there _been_ a particular reason? “...I-I mean- you saw me with Grandpa Stinky, I- C’mon, Sam, people _talk_ to you, they- they don’t think you’re _crazy_ like I am! You _know_ that!”

“Oh, _do_ I know that, Max? ‘Cause I could’ve _sworn_ last night I didn’t understand _ANYTHING_ according t’ you. So which is it?”

“I-!” Max gave a loud frustrated groan, tugging at his ears. “It doesn’t _MATTER_ what you understand! It’s like begging for _SCRAPS_ with you- _whatever!_ There’s just no friggin’ _talking_ to you-”

“Yeah, real _rich_ comin’ from the guy who couldn’t even bother sayin’ anything before leavin’ me out t’ dry-”

“I _DIDN’T_ leave you out t’ dr-”

“And you purposely rubbed us bein’ broken up in my face-”

“No, I _didn’t-_ ”

“Yes, you _DID-_ ”

“ _NOT EVERYTHING’S FUCKIN’ ABOUT YOU,_ **_TÚ ESTÚPIDO MALDITO PERRO!_** ”

A silence suddenly took over. Max was breathing heavily, slightly out of breath from yelling at the top of his lungs. At first he was blinded by his rage, but it slowly dissipated as it sunk in what he had just said, and it was only then that he could see Sam’s face clearly.

Sam looked more than hurt. He looked like he was going to cry. The lagomorph could swear he could see tears welling up - but the dog was soon screwing up his face in a glare.

“...Sam,” Max said quietly, “I-”

“ _Save it_ ,” Sam muttered. “Don’t even bother.”

“But I j-”

“ _SAVE IT!_ ” Max flinched a little but continued looking up at Sam’s face which was contorted with an upset rage. “ _FORGET IT!_ I don’t even know why I friggin’ bothered helpin’ you, ‘cause you clearly don’t actually _CARE-_ ” the dog’s voice broke slightly at the word, “-about me _bein’_ here!”

“No- that’s not-”

“Whatever,” Sam said quickly - and Max knew why. He was close to _actually_ crying and, of course, being the type of person Sam was, that meant shutting down the conversation, and- “I’m goin’ to the bathroom. You can have fun with the projector by your damn self.”

“Hey, no- Sam! Are you serious right now!?” he called as the dog turned and stormed out of the space behind the busted wall. He paced in a small circle for a moment before heading out himself, walking briskly past the frightened molemen and his weird shrine and straight towards the other tunnel. He managed to just catch Sam’s tail disappearing into it. “Sam, come on!” he called. No response. “Ugh - fine! I’ll do this by myself then!” Despite saying that, he still decided to wait. Still no response. His shoulders slumped. “...Sam?” He spoke quietly, and a little sadly, too.

The response he received for that was the sound of a door closing at the other end of the tunnel, which made his ears pin back.

“...Well that was really-” Jebidiah started, before being interrupted by Max literally shoving a hand in his face as he walked past him and Obediah.

The lagomorph entered the astral projector area with his ears still pressed against the back of his skull, staring at the toy on the wooden boxes. He clenched his fists at his sides and sighed deeply through his nose.

If he had to do this alone...so be it.

_The reel started turning and Max found himself being sucked in again - thankfully picking up right where he left off. Sameth retrieved the pistol from his coat and fired two shots around the corner before quickly ducking out of the way again to avoid getting shot. A man’s voice shouted something, but it was incoherent to either of them._

_While the dog was preoccupied with that, the lagomorph decided to crouch next to the Toybox to get a better look at it now that it wasn’t trying to suck his soul out or something, running a hand along the wood. Weird - in all of his abuelita’s stories of his great-grandpa, she never mentioned anything about a ‘Devil’s Toybox’. In the many times she’d told him about Maximus’ trip to Egypt, she’d always said he found treasure-_

_“Maximus,” Sameth said. The lagomorph looked up to see the other looking at him, concerned still. “Usted aquí?”_

_“Uh-” Max - Maximus(?) - stammered, “S-...Sí?”_

_“Yeah? The Toybox isn’t givin’ ya’ an issue?”_

_“No?” That was a bit of an odd inquiry - why would it be giving him an issue?_

_“Alright. But if it is, you let me know. Can’t afford you losin’ your mind.”_

_That just- seemed so odd. Lose his mind? From what the molemen had said, it sounded as if that only started happening to him because of his abilities._

_Unless-_

The projector was shut off suddenly, and it caused a physical pain in Max’s chest as that part of him that had gone had been forcibly returned to him. So much so that he couldn’t keep himself from coughing painfully.

“Fascinating.” The deep voice would have made Max freeze if he wasn’t still trying to get past his coughing fit. “Very interesting, indeed.”

The lagomorph finally managed to inhale a deep, slightly wheezy breath as a black, sharp-nailed hand proceeded to pick up the projector. His gaze followed it, and then he was looking at none other than General Skun-ka’pe, turning the toy this way and that, his amber eyes observing it carefully.

“How did you get here,” Max finally managed to ask, attempting to sound forceful despite still trying to recover from his coughing fit.

“Believe me, that is as lost on me as it is to you,” the gorilla replied, still looking at the toy. Max looked past him to see Obediah and Jebidiah lying on the ground. Dead or unconscious, he couldn’t tell from here. “I simply found myself being _ejected_ back the way I came. However-” He finally lowered the toy back to its initial spot and looked down at the lagomorph. “-I suppose it is of no surprise that the gimcrack new dimension you created could not hold me. The Penal Zone was created by beings far higher than yourself, and even _that_ could not hold me.”

It seemed to finally occur to Max that this was _not good_. Skun-ka’pe had been held only for a few minutes - definitely not expected nor part of the plan - and now he was here, and Max was practically cornered in this fairly cramped space-

And it was only the two of them here.

“...If you come anywhere near me,” Max spoke lowly, making it a point to bare his shark-like teeth with every word. “I will-”

“Tear me apart? With your bare hands?” Skun-ka’pe interrupted, though accurately finished his sentence for him - and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t worry him at least a little. The space gorilla started walking towards him, causing Max to start backing up. “Not even a bullet can harm me. Do you really think you’d have a chance with _just_ yourself?”

“Yeah, well- I have my powers-”

“Which you can only use _with_ the toys, which the ones you have acquired thus far do not assist much in the way of combat.” He was still walking forwards - and Max was still backing up.

“It’s not just me! Sam-”

“Isn’t here-” Max’s back finally hit the rock behind him, and Skun-ka’pe stopped in front of him, leaning down some (though not enough for Max to claw his damn eyes out, the _coward_ -) “-And isn’t coming back for you.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about? What’d you do to him!?”

“Nothing. I just know from what you’ve _done_ -” There was a slightly audible clack of those fanged teeth with the last word, “-That there is no way he’d ever come to your aid again. Not after you betrayed him.”

“I didn’t _betray_ him-”

“He seems to disagree. Again - _not_ here.” Max stared at him with a harsh glare but said nothing. He couldn’t _think_ of anything to say to that. However, the space gorilla soon gave a small smile and stood up straight. “However, you are _far_ too restless. I am not here to continue to make enemies.”

“Yeah, right. Like I’d believe that.”

Skun-ka’pe eyed him for a moment, then gave a solemn nod. He turned his back to Max - and the lagomorph squinted to see if maybe he had any sort of weapon on him, but it was hard to tell with the poor lighting. “I understand this is a tad _cliche_ , but I don’t think we are so _different_ , you and I.”

“Uh-huh.”

“When I was young-” Oh, _great_ , a tragic villain backstory. Just what he needed- “-I was severely misunderstood.” Sure he was. “My _father_ , my peers - they all viewed me as _odd_ or _strange_ -” ...Oh? “-Dare I say, perhaps, even _crazy_ .” ...Oh. “It never mattered what I did. I was always considered a _freak_ . I was unwanted. Unloved. _Uncared_ for...It left me wishing I were someone else.”

This was hitting too close to home for Max’s liking.

“So someone else I became.” Skun-ka’pe turned to face the lagomorph, whose ears, unbeknownst to him, had pinned back. “And now here I stand today - feared, but _respected_.”

“...Why are you bothering t’ tell me all of this?” Max found himself asking. “Not that I actually care or anything.”

“Us ones born with the Gift are born _sick_ in the eyes of the small-minded and mundane. I have suffered this - and judging by your reaction, so have you.” He smiled that unfriendly, toothy smile of his, and said, “But we, _together_ \- I could help you show them what it is you are _truly_ capable of. You could make them regret ever looking down on you.” Max was silent. The space gorilla leaned down again, getting _much_ closer to his face this time, and said, very quietly, “You could certainly prove that dog acquaintance of yours wrong.”

...Perhaps Max might have found himself considering the offer. Perhaps Skun-ka’pe would have been able to convince him. To get in his head, to get him feeling that joining forces _would_ be worthwhile. Except for one little thing:

_“They are not,” Gordon said sharply. “Skun-ka’pe is a fraud. He no more has the Gift than you have an extra spine or blue fur.”_

So yeah. He wasn’t listening to a damn thing this guy was saying. It was _all_ a lie as far as Max was concerned.

“...What do you say?” Skun-ka’pe finally asked, still smiling and straightening up to offer a hand.

“...I don’t think so.”

The smile on the alien’s face dropped immediately. “...What?”

“Thanks, but- no thanks.” His eyes kept darting between Skun-ka’pe and the hole behind him, hoping that ~~Sam~~ _someone_ would come and see this. “I’m just not really feelin’ the whole ‘wreaking havoc with a space gorilla’ thing, y’know?”

“...I see,” he mumbled, curling the fingers of his outstretched hand inwards.

“ _Yeeeah_.” Still looking at that hole- “But thanks for the offer! I-”

“Such a shame. Such _wasted_ potential.” There was the sound of electricity, and Max could see sparks coming off of some strange tool that he could only describe as alien.

“...Uh-” He gave an awkward laugh. “Yeah, I get that a lot-” The lagomorph quickly tried to bolt past him, but immediately received a hand to the throat as he was lifted and slammed harshly into the rock. He immediately started struggling, scratching, kicking, punching, demanding to be let go but the gorilla seemed completely unfazed as he slowly raised the tool to Max’s temple, making the lagomorph’s fur stand on end. Eventually, once it was clear that he was not going to overpower Skun-ka’pe, he inhaled deeply and screamed loudly-

“ **_SAAAAAAM!_ **”

. . .

“...Max?” Sam called down the tunnel as he slowly made his way back down it, his coat in one hand (he had taken it off because he was getting a little warm). “Ya’ still down there, li’l buddy?” He received no response. Guess he couldn’t blame Max for that - he _had_ been pretty crappy to him all day. He was realizing that now. It seemed the lagomorph had every reason to be as angry as he had been.

(Even if the insult he threw at Sam _still_ did hurt.)

“Look, Max,” he continued calling, a slight sigh in his voice. “I get it if y’ don’t want my help anymore, but- I said I’d help ya’, and I still _want_ to.” Still no response. Again - couldn’t blame him. “...If ya’ want my help, just tell me what t’ do. And if ya’ really want me gone just say- the...word…”

The reason for his faltering at the end of that last sentence had been because he was seeing the molemen lying face down and unconscious. It didn’t exactly take any sort of genius to realize they must have been attacked.

“Max!?” Sam immediately shouted, walking right past the two molemen and ducking into the room behind the wall. It was dark in there - the projector was gone, and the only thing lighting it even slightly was the candles from the other side of the hole. “Max, are ya’ in here!? M- …”

He froze, wide-eyed, mouth opened in shock.

Slumped against the farthest wall was Max - lifeless, and a piece of his head cut open, the scalp hanging loosely against the back of his head.

“...No,” he whispered, dropping his coat onto the ground. “No…” He rushed over, his hat flying off as he did so, and knelt down. This couldn’t have been happening...it just _couldn’t_ …

And yet it was.

“Max…” he said shakily, tears welling up in his eyes. He gently took the lagomorph’s small body into his arms (He should’ve been there) and cradled it (He should’ve protected him), burying his face in his partner’s chest (How could he have let this happen…).

“Max…” he murmured again, sobs beginning to shake him, tears running down his cheeks and onto the lagomorph’s white fur. “Please, no…” There was no heartbeat. No movement. Nothing.

Max was dead.

  
(And it was _his_ fault.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this officially marks the end of 'the penal zone' & transitions right into 'they stole max's brain'!! better strap in, because it only gets worse from here, i promise UvU


	7. Search #2: Forwards / Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes finding the whole truth requires moving forward - and looking back.

****

**7:05 PM - UNDERGROUND - SAM**

Obediah hesitantly peeked an eye open. Upon seeing the coast was clear, he opened both eyes, and proceeded to shake Jebidiah’s shoulder. “Wake up, brother,” he whispered - just in case.

Jebidiah opened his own eyes and looked at him. “Are we safe?”

“I believe so.”

“Good,” he said with a sigh of relief, standing up then offering a hand to his fellow moleman. “I was not expecting that to happen.”

“Neither was I.”

“What does it mean now that he’s escaped?”

Obediah opened his mouth to reply, but found himself gasping instead and clutching onto Jebidiah in fear at the sound of low, steady growling. A tall figure with hunched shoulders and a lowered head was coming from the shadows, and eventually stepped into the light, staring at them with enraged eyes.

It was Sam.

“O-Oh!” Obediah said, giving a nervous laugh as the dog slowly approached them. “It’s just you! For a second I thought-”

“What. Happened.”

“...I beg your pard-”

“What _happened!?_ ” he barked, making the molemen flinch. “What happened to Max!?”

“We- we don’t know!”

“ _Liar!_ ”

“No, honest! The only thing I heard w-was zapping, and- and-”

“And _what!?_ Spit it out before I-”

“Your name! He called your name.” Sam paused at that, though his snarl still remained. “And I heard him go up the tunnel, but that’s it, I-”

“Who went up the tunnel!?”

“General Skun-ka’pe!” Jebidiah cried at last. “He broke free from the Penal Zone! He must’ve hurt your friend, and- and he stole the Toybox, too! I’m so sorry!”

Sam wanted to be mad over their cowardice - his li’l buddy had been stripped of his brain, and they did _nothing_. However, he couldn’t blame them - what could they have done against Skun-ka’pe, anyway? He merely huffed instead, muttering, “Not as sorry as that brain-stealin’ son of a bitch is gonna be once I get my hands on ‘im.”

As the dog was about to turn, Obediah said, “Wait!” Sam paused, looking at him. “I...Before Skun-ka’pe showed, I had time to grab these.” He tentatively proceeded to pull out the playing card and the viewfinder. “But only these. The other one was taken, but...maybe you could get it back?”

“My li’l buddy’s brain comes first.” The moleman’s shoulders slumped. “...But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you,” he said as Sam took the toys from him. He folded his hands together. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he murmured, pocketing the toys as he turned and headed back to the room behind the wall.

He stood and stared at Max ~~’s body~~ , which he’d laid back against the wall. God, the poor guy...with his head drooping and his ears all saggy, covering those eyes once filled with passion and energy, now empty…

He really ought to treat his partner right.

He gathered up his coat that he had dropped on the floor in his shock, then knelt down by Max ~~’s body~~. With very gentle and careful movements, he pulled the jacket over the lagomorph’s shoulders, wrapping it around him. Sam then took that piece of scalp that was so gruesomely dangling and folded it back into its original spot, making sure it was lined up properly before taking his hat and placing it snuggly on Max’s head. The dog leaned back and looked at his handiwork. Max was swamped in the coat, and the hat covered his eyes, but at least he looked comfortable.

He couldn’t leave Max here, in this dark, dusty place - in the place where he died, struggling and screaming. Screaming _his_ name, no less. He wondered if that was the last thing he’d ever said…?

The dog wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then gently reached out and scooped his li’l buddy up into his arms, holding him bridal style and holding him _close_ , tucking the lagomorph’s head into the crook of his neck.

The Boxists watched as Sam walked by - steady, somber - towards the tunnel. As soon as he vanished from their view, Jebidiah turned to Obediah. “I did not think that he had any relevance. But I’m starting to believe he might, yet.”

“Are you suspecting he is the Eidolon? The one to bring tranquility to the Devil Bunny’s ideations?”

“I do. I suppose you believe the same?”

“After the events that have transpired, I am not certain of what I believe in. But I will say what I know.”

“And that is…?”

“If he is the Eidolon, then may the Spirits behind the Box be easy on his soul, for there is a tough road ahead.”

The dog carried Max out to the DeSoto, the skies recently turned dark, and carefully placed him in the front seat, making sure he wouldn’t fall forwards. _Odd_ , he thought, paws resting on the edge of the black vehicle which caught the lights of nearby neon signs. _He almost looks as if he’s just sleeping._

Sam’s attention moved over to Carol the scanner, ears perking slightly as a thought occurred to him. He proceeded to pull out the two toys he’d been given. “Alright, Carol,” he muttered, proceeding to place them on her screen. “Lead me to him.”

The scanner buzzed, an X appearing on her screen.

“What!?” he exclaimed, part out of shock, part out of anger. Carol merely buzzed again. He gave a low growl. “Fine.” He went around and hopped into the driver’s seat, and looked at the lagomorph beside him. “Let’s go for a drive, li’l buddy,” he mumbled, before turning the key and stepping on the gas.

. . .

**8:49 PM - MUSEUM OF MOSTLY NATURAL HISTORY - MAX**

It seemed that the space gorillas had finished up the contraption that they’d been working on. Which, of course, meant that Max was now being picked up by one of them and brought over to it, still not knowing what part he had in all of this-

“Whoa, hey!” Max said, suddenly realizing, while looking at the gorilla carrying him. “You’re that one guy that was stranglin’ me!”

“Huh?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah! You were stranglin’ me, and Sam backed right into ya’ and knocked ya’ out cold, remember?”

“Oh,” he said, sounding unimpressed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah! That was pretty fun. Well - I thought it was fun. The ‘you gettin’ run over’ part, of course.” The gorilled merely grunted. “...Hey, so, about this machine thing-y ya’ got goin on-”

“What about it?”

“Well, y’see, I think it’s some _very_ good craftsmanship. Not Rube Goldberg levels of good- hell, I think even my buddy could do a better job than this. But, uh, I’ve got no idea what it does!” He stopped himself before he added that Papierwaite decided against telling him - just in case the other decided to refuse to tell him based off of that information.

“It’s somethin’ t’ attract the Toys of Power to the Toybox.”

“Mhm,” Max replied, genuinely interested. “Go on.”

“That’s it. That’s all it is.”

“Well it can’t be _all_ there is - you’re bringin’ _me_ over to it, ain’t ya’?”

“Oh, yeah. ‘Parently your brain is the only thing strong ‘nough to actually _attract_ ‘em here.” As he said that, he was placing Max’s jar on a sort of pedestal placed in the middle of the room. “So, uh- ‘course, I need t’ hook ya’ up.”

“ _Ah_ , gotcha. And, uh- how do ya’ do that?”

“Do what?”

“Hook me up!”

“Like this.” The space gorilla proceeded to kneel down and start connecting some wires that were attached to the pedestal. Max watched him carefully as he did so, trying to keep in mind the seemingly random pattern he was connecting them i-

“ _OW!_ ” he yelled after receiving a prompt zapping to his entire being.

The gorilla stood up and dusted his hands. “There. All hooked up.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered, managing to shake himself despite just being a brain.

“‘Ey, guys!” the space gorilla yelled towards the other minions, “We’re all good t’ go here!”

Okay, so he had connected that one wire _there_ , and then put the other wire _there_ , and then the next...where? Oh, there. Or was it there? _Crap_ , he couldn’t remember now, that stupid _shock_ had distracted h-

...Wait, what the hell was that whirring noise? And why did he suddenly feel tingly-

As soon as the machine had been turned on, he inhaled sharply, feeling some pain but mostly feeling that damn _nausea_ again. The thing that was the most concerning, though, was the weird _vortex_ that suddenly began to form, blinding light swirling around him that did absolutely _nothing_ to help his dizziness. In the midst of the light, he began to see some shadows within it - and if that gorilla guy that had strangled him before was telling the truth, Max was willing to bet that those were just a couple of many toys that were being sucked into the Toybox with the nonconsensual use of his brain.

He wasn’t sure when Sam was gonna get there, but hoo boy - when he did, he was gonna have his work cut out for him.

. . .

**7:16 PM - PET PAVILION - SAM**

The DeSoto sped through the streets, the sound of its engine clear through the quiet night. In the midst of his driving, he caught a whiff of something foul akin to sweat-soaked fur. Glancing around, he could distantly see the sight of what appeared to be a grey gorilla holding a sign in front of some pet store place.

“ _Hellooo_ ugly,” the dog said lowly under his breath. The car’s wheels squealed as he came to a halt next to the sidewalk, and upon exiting he slammed the door shut.

His lip curled over his teeth as he approached the space gorilla, who seemed none the wiser - only appearing startled when the dog finally barked, “ _You!_ ” at him. “You’re one of Skunkape’s goons! Where’s your boss!?” At the hostile tone, the gorilla attempted to shield himself with the sign - and Sam immediately grabbed it and yanked it out of his grip, the wooden sign clattering against the sidewalk. The gorilla immediately raised his hands to shield himself instead as Sam got in his face demanding, “What’d he do to my li’l buddy!?”

“I don’t know,” the space ape replied shakily. “I haven’t seen General Skun-ka’pe since you unjustly imprisoned him in the Penal Zone!” This was one of those same bastards that knocked him out - now he was cowering like some snivelling child that broke a vase and was already frightened by the idea of punishment. Pathetic.

“ _‘Unjustly’_ ,” he repeated bitterly. “That assmonkey deserves more than just bein’ banished t’ some bizarro dimension after what he did t’ my partner. And you’re only gonna make it worse for him _AND_ yourself if you _lie_ t’ me.”

“I am _not_ lying!”

“That’s what everyone says. I don’t believe you for a damn _second_ that you haven’t at least been in contact with him.”

“I really haven’t.”

“Then how the hell’d you know he was even trapped in the Penal Zone t’ begin with?”

“We’re not _like_ you Earthlings - we’re more privy to the sounds of the dimensional barriers being split open than you are.”

“So then you’d know he escaped. But ya’ haven’t bothered t’ go find him.”

“Nah. I’ve been rethinking some of my life choices since Skun-ka’pe’s imprisonment. Got out of a career of violence, and took up a job as a sign-spinner.”

“In a mere matter of minutes?”

The space gorilla paused - and Sam knew that he finally cornered him like a cat cornered a mouse. “I meant his-” he faltered, “His previous imprisonm-”

“I said-” He back-handed the gorilla’s face.

“Ow! Hey-!” he was interrupted by the dog yanking him down by the loose skin around his neck, pulled down and forced to stare him in his wild eyes.

“-Don’t _LIE_ t’ me!”

“Let me go-!”

“I’ve ran over a couple’a you punks for _less_. You don’t wanna imagine what I’ll do for-”

“I’m not scared of you!”

“And I don’t think you’re tellin’ the truth. Now you better tell me _somethin’_ useful or-” He was winding his fist back, ready and, frankly, raring to go-

“Okay, _OKAY!_ ” the gorilla pleaded, screwing up his eyes and bracing for impact just in case. Sam kept his fist raised but held off. He had a feeling he wouldn’t need to touch another hair on this guy to finally get what he wanted. “I _have_ seen Skun-ka’pe- b-but I don’t know where he went! I’m not the right person to ask - honest!”

“Then who _is?_ ” The space gorilla looked thoughtful. Sam’s fist twitched. “I _need_ an answer,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m _thinking_ -”

“Well think _faster_.”

“Frankie. The rat.” Weird - Sam knew a ‘Frankie’ but she certainly wasn’t no damn rat, that was for sure. “He knows the ins and outs of this filthy metropolis - he’d know where Skun-ka’pe went even before Skun-ka’pe knew where he was going. He hangs out on the corner of Vini and Vidi on the Latin Quarter.”

The dog stared hard at the quivering ape, gauging how truthful he was being. Eventually, he let go. “If I find out you’ve wasted my time-”

“I’m not! I promise, I’m _not_ …” Sam merely huffed at him, and started to head back to the DeSoto. “Wait-” the gorilla called as Sam was getting into the driver’s side. “You’re not going to tell Skun-ka’pe I told you any of this, are you?”

Sam pulled up the car next to him, the engine idling quietly as he replied, “If both of us are lucky, he won’t even have a chance t’ know. So if I were you, I’d start wishin’ for that luck.” The space gorilla seemed to be dissatisfied with that response, his shoulders slumping. Good. That was what he got for even asking such a stupid question. The dog revved the engine and continued onward. He looked in his rearview mirror to see the gorilla picking up that dumb sign before taking a sharp right and disappearing around the corner.

. . .

**8:16 PM - MUSEUM OF MOSTLY NATURAL HISTORY - MAX**

The last feelings Max had felt as his head had been _electrocuted_ open before losing consciousness had been pure _panic_. And, unfortunately, as he was finally beginning to regain consciousness, that feeling of panic returned with him. 

He awoke suddenly, and with rapid breathing through nonexistent lungs. Where was he? Where was his _body!?_ What _HAPPENED_ to him!? He called for Sam- did he hear him? Was he coming!? Oh, he swore to _God_ , the next time he laid eyes on that _damn dirty ape-_

“Easy now,” a male voice he didn’t recognize said calmly. “Easy.” There was a cool sensation that enveloped Max (how he could feel things like temperature in his current state, he didn’t bother questioning), and at once he felt himself, involuntarily, starting to relax. Meaning he was still freaking the hell out - just not as openly or outwardly. “That’s it,” the voice - which belonged to a man standing in front of his...jar? Sure - said gently. The jar Max resided in was picked up by him, looking him directly in the- well, not _eyes_ , but certainly _at_ him. “Better?”

“Not in the slightest,” Max replied coolly.

“Mm, of course not. The spell only nulls the feelings - not eradicate them.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?”

“Ah, of course. How rude of me - Monsieur Papierwaite. And you are…?”

“None of your goddamn business,” he said calmly.

Papierwaite gave a small laugh in response - and Max knew that if he was capable of feeling anger right now, he would, and if he had a body, he’d be attempting to wipe that smile off his dumb face. “I understand,” was all he said.

Max merely gave an indifferent grunt...someh- actually, no, he was done questioning how this was possible when he was only just a brain. He looked past the man and saw those damn space gorillas (he couldn’t see any sign of _that_ space gorilla from where he was, though) working on some weird contraption. “What the heck is that?”

The man glanced over his shoulder at them, then shook his head. “Never mind that-”

“Oh, but I’d _like_ to mind it. It seems really interesting, please tell me about it in explicit detail.”

“No, no - you’ve enough to deal with given your current state already.”

Damn. Guess he was getting nothing out of this guy.

Papierwaite held the jar closer to his eyes. “I do beg your pardon - I am just so _fascinated_ by your very existence.”

Uh-huh.

“You see, I’ve only met one other Psychic before.”

Max _really_ didn’t care about this-

“Maximus Conejo was his name.”

_OH…_ “...What?”

The man tilted his head slightly. “You recognize the name?” Max didn’t answer. “I suppose that isn’t _too_ surprising - he was a fairly well-known explorer.”

“Right, right, right, yeah, that too - he was a what now?”

“A Psychic. Mortals with immortal abilities - powers that cannot be comprehended by anyone but the very Gods that allowed them to be.”

“... _Him_ , though?”

“Oh, most definitely. I was there to witness his powers when they were freshly unlocked.”

“...Huh,” was all Max said to that. He had had some suspicions earlier, sure, but he hadn’t actually expected them to be _true_. But hey, it was pretty cool to hear his great-grandfather was psychic like he was! And yet- also strange. All those stories his abuelita told, and yet, she made no mention of him having any abilities whatsoever. In fact, she’d always painted him as just...a normal yet mildly chaotic guy. Like him! It was one of the reasons why he looked up to him, despite barely knowing the guy personally!

“Must be awfully interesting to hear for you I imagine,” Papierwaite said, “Isn’t it, Max?”

“Yeah, it is-” He froze, and if he had a spine, a shiver would go down it undoubtedly.

His smile now seemed less pleasant and more _smug_ . “Yes, I know who you are. You tried to hide it, but I know. Your reputation precedes you, _garçon_.”

“...Alright,” Max said, finally sounding a little irritated. Maybe that weird _calming_ spell was starting to wear off. Or maybe Max’s deep internal rage was beginning to override it. “Cut the shit, guy. Tell me what that machine does.”

“It makes no difference whether you know, but-”

The man had been interrupted by the sound of the door to the room bursting open, a grey space gorilla running in. “Skun-ka’pe!” he yelled, “Skun-ka’pe, I have urgent news-”

“Rory,” Max heard that _damn voice_ \- the one that tried to _tempt_ him only to _brutally rip his friggin’ bRAIN OUT OF HIS HEAD!_ Anyway, the pale-furred gorilla finally came into his sight, going up to the one called ‘Rory’ and putting his hands on his shoulders. “We have been meaning to find you - what is wrong?”

“I’ve been looking all over, sir. I don’t know how much time has passed, I- I’m so sorry-”

“Apology is not needed. Just tell me what is wrong.”

“It’s the dog.” Max felt his anger switch to excitement just like that. “He’s looking for you. I bought some time for you - I lied to him. He knew I was lying, but I lied well enough to buy you time, but I don’t know if he will be held off forever.”

“...So we will just have to hurry.” He patted the gorilla’s shoulder, then pushed him in the direction of the other working space apes.

“...Well,” Papierwaite said, placing Max down. “I will have to leave you for now, I’m afraid.”

“Wh- nonono, wait-” Max attempted to say, but the man was already walking off, making the lagomorph’s brain huff in frustration. His frustration soon vanished once again, though, as he was left with his own thoughts.

...Holy shit. Sam _was_ coming after all. He was _actually_ coming-! But...of course, knowing _Sam_ , it was probably going to take him freakin’ _forever_ to get there. Especially if he’d been thrown off the trail.

All he could do, for the umpteenth time in his life, was hope that Sam would _hurry_ \- and he _hated_ that.

. . .

**7:41 PM - LATIN QUARTER - SAM**

The rat was walking quietly along the dimly lit sidewalk on all fours, his claws barely even audible as they tapped against the pavement. His ear twitched as the sound of a car engine came up behind him, peeking a dark eye over his shoulder. Indeed there was a car behind him with its lights shut off. A DeSoto.

He’d recognize that damn car anywhere.

He proceeded to take off, and immediately he saw the headlights come on and heard the engine rev to life. He couldn’t shake the sound nor the spotlight on him, not even as he took a corner down a dark alleyway. He managed to hop down a ledge, and heard the car clunk as it drove over it without a care in the world. As he was reaching the end of the alleyway, he heard it stop abruptly, but didn’t stop running. He scuttle up and onto a trash can just as there was the sound of a car door opening then closing, then leapt and attached himself to the brick wall that was blocking his path, intending to start scaling it-

And was grabbed by the collar of his leather jacket and yanked right off.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Frankie protested, “Take it easy, ya’ _mutt!_ ”

Sam ignored the insult. “Why were you runnin’, _rat_.”

“Why the hell d’ ya’ think - chasin’ me down with your damn _car_ , what’d you expect!?”

“Fair enough. Look, I have questions and I was told you’d have answers.”

“I ain’t answerin’ anythin’ ‘til ya’ put me down.”

“I can’t trust you not t’ run.”

“Well then we’re at a bit of a _stalemate_ , ain’t we?”

The dog narrowed his eyes at the rat, who only gave him a look of smug superiority, clearly believing that he had control of the situation. Sam looked towards the trash can that Frankie had climbed on short moments ago, and that look vanished.

“Don’t you _dare-_ ” Sam removed the lid. “ _HEY, I S-_ ” Sam tossed him in the empty trash, and the rat grunted as there was a metallic _clang_ as he landed. “ _HEY!_ ”

“There.” The dog peered in, resting a paw on the edge. “You wanted me t’ put ya’ down? You got it.”

“This ain’t what I mean y- let me out!”

Sam ignored the demand. “Where is Skunkape?”

“I ain’t got any damn clue who that is.”

“Seven feet, white fur, stupid outfit - might be carryin’ my friend’s _brain_.” He noticed the last statement made the rat’s ears perk. The dog tilted his head. “Know somethin’ about it?”

“...Maybe a thing or two, yeah. You gotta let me back out if I tell ya’.”

“Just tell me the truth.”

“I did see one of ‘em space gorillas carryin’ a brain. I saw ‘em barrellin’ down the street-”

“Where?”

“Jesus, lemme finish, will ya’? He looked like he was headin’ over to that, uh - that restaurant place.”

Sam admittedly blinked. “Stinky’s?”

“Yeah! That one!”

He frowned doubtfully, squinting at the rat. Something about that sounded...off...but at the same time, he didn’t have a reason not to believe that. Girl Stinky _had_ been on his ship, and he already had suspicions that the letter to her might’ve been from Skun-ka’pe… “...Alright,” was all he said, then started putting the lid back onto the trash can-

“Whoa, whoa, what’re ya’ doin’!? You said you’d lemme out!”

“I told you t’ tell me the truth.”

“I _am_ tellin’ you the truth!”

“I’ll figure that out for myself.”

“You sonuva-!” He was cut off by the clang of the trash can lid being placed on. All Frankie could hear from inside was the sound of the dog getting into the car and taking off. He huffed in annoyance, and as soon as the DeSoto was out of ear shot, started slamming his shoulder into the side of the can.

. . .

**8:03 PM - STINKY’S DINER - SAM**

When Sam approached the broken door to the diner (which now had some sort of cover over the spot where the glass had been shattered) but paused upon hearing whirring on the other side. He listened intently at the sound of something clicking, followed by what sounded like heels walking along the hardwood floor. Sounded like Girl Stinky was in there. Once he was sure he was not about to walk in on her coming back from that hidden passage of hers and risk sabotaging his chances of hearing anything from her, he entered.

“Oh, if it isn’t-” Girl Stinky started, then paused upon actually looking at the dog. “Christ, you look like shit. And you smell like a corpse.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised by that.”

“...By which thing?”

He paid no mind to the inquiry, going up to the counter, leaning his hands on it. “I see you’re back behind the counter.”

“No thanks to _you_ . I’m guessing you two-” she hesitated some, her eyes darting to see that Max wasn’t with him. He could see the question in her eyes, but it remained unspoken - she didn’t care enough to ask. “ _You_ were responsible for Skun-ka’pe just _flying_ out of his ship’s front window?”

“We were.”

“Yeah - _thanks_. The whole friggin’ ship crashed with me in it.”

“Where’d it crash?”

She crossed her arms. “Why do _you_ care?”

“Why do _you_ care?” he flung the question right back at her.

“I _don’t_ care. That’s the thing-”

“Really? So there’s no con for you if I know where it is?”

“No. Why would there be?”

“You _were_ in Skunkape’s ship when I got there-”

“Oh. That’s cute. You think I’m working with him? Don’t be ridiculous. My standards are _far_ too high for the likes of him.”

“So why not just tell me.”

“It’s a giant spaceship,” she said, finally starting to sound annoyed. “Find it your _self_ if it’s so important.”

“It could still be anywhere, and I don’t have _time-_ ”

“Not my problem. Look, I’m _really_ busy and have better things to do. So if you’re not gonna make this worth my while, then leave.”

Sam found it hard to believe that she wasn’t working with Skun-ka’pe, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, if Skun-ka’pe had used Gordon to power his ship, maybe he was doing the same for Max. And, if not, maybe there was still something that could lead him to them. However, as Stinky was going back to going on her phone, he could tell he wasn’t going to get an answer out of her so easily as the other two. He needed something a little more…

He pulled the note from his pocket and unfolded it, holding it out to her. Stinky stopped what she was doing and side-eyed it. “...What is that?”

“You tell me. It’s to you.”

“What?” She sounded almost a little surprised. She put her phone away, and tried to grab it from him.

“Uh-uh,” he said, pulling it back from her reach. “You can read it like this.”

She merely gave an annoyed huff, her teal eyes were scanning over the page, before hovering over the bottom phone number. She looked off to the side, looking thoughtful, then shooting a glare at Sam. “You _used_ that number, didn’t you?”

“I did, but I didn’t follow you. I just needed you out of the diner, that’s all.”

“Where the hell’d you get it?”

“Paper. You know - the man you tried t’ poison and _kill?_ ”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t.” She leaned away some, her brows furrowed. He could see the slight uncertainty in her eyes. “Look, before you go and start denyin’ that you’ve got anything t’ do with it, just hear me out - I couldn’t give a flyin’ rat’s ass what this is about. I couldn’t give two shits about whatever the hell you’re up to right now. Right now, there’s only one thing I’m concerned about, and it’s findin’ Skunkape - or, in this case, his ship. This is the only dirt I’ve got on you - but I can give it right up, right here, right now. All you’ve gotta do is tell me where that ship is.”

Stinky narrowed her eyes at him. “You really think you can _bribe_ me? Nice try. You’re right - that has nothing to do with me. I don’t even know what it’s talking about.”

The dog fell silent, eyeing her for a long moment. He knew she was lying. When he’d called her earlier that day, she spoke as if she was just as in on it as this ‘S.’ guy. But he couldn’t prove that. As far as he could be concerned, this was a deadend in a maze - and he’d have to turn around and find another way himself. “Figured as much,” he mumbled. He proceeded to fold up the paper - and leave it on the counter, sliding it towards her. He noticed her brows go up at him doing that, but didn’t comment. He simply turned around and started heading off, placing a hand on the door-

“Why do you care about finding him?” He paused at the question, forcing that slight joy in his chest down. “Didn’t you deal with him already?”

“...We did,” he looked over his shoulder. He contemplated his next words _very_ carefully - contemplated what effect they’d have if she _was_ actually working with Skun-ka’pe - but finally decided to say, “He’s escaped, though.”

“So you _didn’t_ get him.”

“No.”

She stayed quiet for a moment. If she was thinking over something, he couldn’t tell - her expression was pretty unreadable at that moment. “...Whatever,” she muttered. “I don’t know the exact spot. It might be downtown.”

Sam couldn’t help but exhale a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

“Just get out of here. You’ve killed enough of my time as it is.”

_Feeling’s mutual_ , Sam thought as he exited.

. . .

**7:31 PM - MUSEUM OF MOSTLY NATURAL HISTORY - MONSIEUR ANTON PAPIERWAITE**

To say that Anton had waited to find the Devil’s Toybox for a long time would be a _severe_ understatement. An _over a century long_ understatement, to be precise. Ever since the day that damned lagomorph and dog had ruined his plan and stolen the Toybox for themselves, he had been awaiting the time he would be able to get his hands on it once again. The problem had always been that he, for all of his power and magical prowess, could never find the Toybox. Wherever it had been hidden by those lowly thieves, it must have been protected by enchantments far more powerful than his own - too powerful for him to detect, even with his...current condition. And so he simply had to wait - sometimes with patience, other times not - and bide his time, building himself a life - a cover - in the meantime.

So when he had felt that physical _shift_ in the air that he felt so many decades ago when the Devil’s Toybox had been brought to him for the very first time, he had been quick to cast the spell to summon it that had collected dust over the years, and did so without even much thought (and without much _heed_ of the warnings to the voice that shared his thoughts whether he wanted it or not).

After casting the summoning spell, he had shut his book, a small cloud of dust forming when he did so, and looked up with an eager, almost _hungry_ look on his expression. Finally, he would have it in his possession - _finally_ he would be _FREE_ of this monotonous, dull, endless life.

The look had fallen when before him, several _gorillas_ appeared with it. He was not startled by the creatures themselves - he, too, had been aware of their presence in the city since the early morning, and had even been aware of their mission to find the Toys of Power - but rather, he was startled because he simply had not been expecting them to transport here along with the Toybox. The space gorillas seemed just as startled.

Their leader, however, did not. He was carrying what appeared to be some form of brain in a futuristic-looking jar, and handed it off to one of his minions, and began slowly approaching Anton with a straightened posture, his chest puffed out. He stopped a few steps away from him.

“Who are you?” the gorilla demanded in his deep voice.

The man looked at him with furrowed brows, a wariness in his eyes. He almost chose to refuse, but that voice murmured from the edges of his mind, _Do not make an enemy out of him, fool._ “...Monsieur Papierwaite,” he finally replied, squaring his own shoulders and taking on this look of self assurance, unfazed by the other’s attempt to intimidate him in his own home. “I am the owner of the museum you stand in.”

“Museum,” Skun-ka’pe repeated in a mutter - whether it was understanding or disgust or both, Anton couldn’t tell. “Were you the one who brought us here?”

“I was,” he admitted. “There is certainly no point in hiding it.”

The space gorilla’s lips twitched, revealing his top fangs ever so slightly. “You were after the _Toybox_ …”

“Yes. There is no point in hiding that, either.”

Though the general himself had made no move, several of his minions behind him were proceeding to take out guns of sorts. It was no surprise that they wanted the Toybox for themselves, nor was it a surprise that they were even willing to fight or _kill_ for it if they had to. He, however, was willing to do that as well, seeing as he was unwilling to give up his first and possibly only chance in the past _century_ to some brutes. His fingers twitched, the magic already flowing through his veins in preparation to engage with them in combat-

_Do_ not _make an enemy out of him_ , the voice repeated, sounding stern and almost a little angry that it had to repeat itself. _The Toybox brought them here for a reason - so be_ reasonable.

Although Anton personally failed to see how these aliens could _possibly_ be reasonable, he did as he was instructed, and raised his hands in a relaxed way, splaying his fingers to show that he had no weapon of any sort. The snarl on the general’s face vanished, and though those amber eyes still glared, the space gorilla raised a hand, and at once the other gorillas lowered their weapons. Skun-ka’pe waited for the man to speak first.

“I am not here to cause trouble,” he explained calmly. “And I am not here to interfere with your plans.”

“...You know what they are.”

“Of course. I may not be a man that has kept up particularly _well_ with the times-” (A joke; one that would be lost on the other completely), “-But I am not deaf to the whispers that circulate.”

“You cannot fool me. You did not mean to summon us, I could see it on your face.”

“I was never going to claim such a thing.” He folded his arms behind his back, and took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them. “It is true, I was not expecting... _attachments_ in bringing the Devil’s Toybox here. But if you are as knowledgeable about it as I, then you must also figure there may be a reason for it.” The space gorilla’s expression shifted, and it was clear to Anton that he _hadn’t_ considered that.

“...And what might you suppose that reason may be?”

“Perhaps we have goals that align. Perhaps we have goals that can only be completed with assistance from another.”

Skun-ka’pe gave a small chuckle, lips curling into a rather ugly smile. “You are awfully _quick_ to offer such a deal.”

“I am a superstitious man.”

“And I am _not_. And even if I were, understand that I would not be assuming that I was brought here because I need you - a complete and utter stranger - and your assistance. I would sooner assume that you are an obstacle. So try again, Monsieur.”

_Be reasonable_ , the voice reminded Anton. “...You want the Toys of Power, yes?”

“I want it _all_.”

“You want the Toys of Power,” he repeated - _insisted_ , even - “And I just want the Toybox.”

“...You say ‘just’,” he said, “As if ‘just’ is appropriate to say for such an object.”

“You want the Toybox because it means attracting the Toys of Power. The Toybox itself is but a container for them.”

“Are you trying to insult my intelligence by claiming it as useless?”

“Not _useless_ , but cannot be _used_.”

The space gorilla seemed to consider his words carefully. “...I see. But this does not change the fact that I still have _a_ use for it.”

“I understand,” the man said with a nod. “So understand that I would not need it for long. My need for it would be quite brief. It would be returned to you as soon as I was done.”

General Skun-ka’pe eyed him, a look of deep thought on his expression. He looked over his shoulder at his minions for a moment, then turned back to Anton again. “You claimed you could _assist_ me…”

“I can. I have spells to summon the Toys of Power just as I have summoned the Toybox to me. I do not have the strength to do so on my own, however.”

“I have the brain of a Psychic.”

“I can see that.”

Skun-ka’pe looked him over one last time, before that unpleasant smile returned. The gorilla then extended a hand to Anton - and Anton accepted it without hesitance. After one firm shake, though, Skun-ka’pe yanked him forward, making the man nearly stumble off of his feet, and found his face uncomfortably close to the beast’s. “Consider yourself a lucky man, Papierwaite,” the gorilla said. “I am not easy to negotiate with.”

“I am not lucky,” Anton replied, maintaining his composure, “I am simply a good negotiator.” Skun-ka’pe chuckled, and he tried not to let a shiver go down his spine as the alien let go of him.

“I will need a system for the brain to do his job properly,” Skun-ka’pe announced, half to the museum owner and half to his crew.

“I think you will find I have sufficient enough technology here to do the job.”

“Perfect. We shall set up and once we do, you shall cast your ‘spell’. We shall allow it to run until we have _every_ toy in our possession. Then you shall do as you please with the Toybox after the fact - within reason, of course.”

“Of course. I will leave you to it.”

While the space gorilla proceeded to begin shouting orders to his minions, the man left the work-in-progress planetarium (a new attraction for the museum - for the approaching spring rush) that was in the middle of the building. He spared one glance towards the front door as his newest employee, Sal, entered to start his nightly shift, then promptly turned away and started heading the opposite direction. Once the coast was clear, he began to mumble under his breath;

“He is _lying_ . He has no plan to give me what I want. Did you see the look in his eyes? He looked at me like I was _prey_.”

“To him,” the owner of the voice murmured, now verbal rather than just a thought in his mind, “You _are_ prey.”

“And here, he has just been invited into my abode as carelessly as a rabbit inviting a ferret into its den. And you encouraged it!”

“Do not speak to me that way - you wished to fight him knowing we are _both_ in a weakened state like an imbecile. You would not have won. You would have been torn apart and you would have been _conscious_ for every second during and _after_.”

Anton huffed, and muttered quietly, “I know...But what am I to do? He is going to ruin _everything_ if he denies me the Toybox.”

“You have plenty of time to come up with something. But as I said, he was brought here with a purpose, so make sure that purpose is fulfilled.”

The man remained quiet for a moment. “...Yes, my deity. I will follow your word.”

. . .

**8:33 PM - DOWNTOWN AREA - SAM**

The space gorilla’s ship was indeed crashed in the middle of the downtown area, having knocked over plenty of buildings and caused large crevices to form in the roads yet still somehow remaining upright.

The alarming thing, however, was the fact that the ramp was already down.

As soon as Sam saw that, he came to a complete and sudden halt, quickly getting out of the car and running towards the ship and up the ramp. As he entered the ship, he pulled out his gun, holding it out in preparation to fire if needed. He walked slowly through, looking around carefully. It was clear to him that somebody had been in there already, but as far as he could tell, there was no sign of life. Nevertheless, he didn’t let his guard down.

The first thing he noticed was that the tank that once held Gordon was now gone - just completely removed from the stand that once held it. The second was a strange smell that he could only compare to burning meat. The third were the several burn marks on both the first and second deck floors. Or, at least, burn marks were the closest thing he could compare them to - they looked...weird. But since he had no idea what caused them, he decided to move on.

Following the smell, it only led him to a locked door nearby. He tapped on the circular red light on the door, but it didn’t open. _Probably for the best. The less I know, the better._

That left the missing tank. His best guess was Skun-ka’pe must’ve come back and taken it to use for Max’s brain. Why he would uninstall the tank was beyond him, but if there was one thing for certain (and he nearly started crying again at the thought) - if Max had been placed in that Demon Broth, there was possibly a chance he might be **_alive_ **. Unfortunately, it was also certain that even if he was, he was elsewhere - and Sam hadn’t the sweetest clue where.

The dog continued to look around for any other possible clues, revolver still in hand. He eventually wandered from the upper deck to the lower deck. He decided to stop by one of those weird burn marks and kneel down, taking one index finger and running it along the floor. They _definitely_ weren’t burn marks - they felt oddly slimy but didn’t have anywhere near the same properties as slime. He couldn’t help but grimace in disgust at the feeling, actually, and retracted his hand, wiping it on his shirt despite nothing being physically on his hand.

He explored the steering of the ship, the throne, and the area where he’d been locked away in, all the while aware that more and more time was passing. However, so far he was finding nothing. He huffed a quiet sigh, prepared to head off and back to the DeSoto- and then stopped after feeling something small under his foot. Ears perked, he lifted his foot. On the floor there was the popsicle stick Max had tossed away.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, “Didn’t even bother t’ clean up the place.” He picked it up. It was a little sticky, and also had one of those weird slimy burn marks - inconveniently enough, in the near same spot where he was holding it. Disgusting.

_Disgusting_ , he thought with a dawning realization, _But possibly useful_.

He exited the ship and headed back to the DeSoto, grabbing Carol and pulling her closer to him. “Alright,” he said, “Let’s try this again.” He scanned the popsicle stick, and then he scanned the viewfinder - the toy Max undoubtedly had some sort of fingerprint on - and waited with patience and hope. He wasn’t entirely certain how the scanner was meant to function, but if it could track down stores with just a couple of items, then maybe using Max’s DNA…

The scanner at first gave no indication if this was working or failing, only humming quietly. Sam couldn’t help glancing over at Max’s slumped body repeatedly during the minute-long wait. He couldn’t tell if it was his mind playing tricks or if it really _was_ starting to smell bad…

_Bzzz._

The dog’s heart skipped a beat at the noise, already prepared to _lose it_ if he looked at the screen and saw that damn X again.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Thankfully, that little map was present on the screen, and though it took a few moments longer for the arrow to finally stop, it eventually did. ‘MUSEUM OF MOSTLY NATURAL HISTORY’ appeared in the bottom left corner.

“Thank you,” Sam said with a relieved sigh, placing a hand on the scanner. “Thank you, _thank_ you.” Maybe it was just him, but he could’ve sworn she beeped in response. As he hopped into the driver’s side again, he picked the scanner up and placed her in his lap so he could look at the map, murmuring the name under his breath. He gave another sigh through his nose, looking over at Max’s body again. “Hang tight, li’l buddy…”

Once again, the DeSoto’s engine echoed through the quiet night.

. . .

**7:21 PM - THE SHIP - GENERAL SKUN-KA’PE**

The space gorilla had fled from the scene of his crime shortly after he had removed the brain of that dimwitted rabbit from his melon-sized skull. He had wished to waste no time for those pathetic molemen to wake up, nor for that canine to return and see the damage Skun-ka’pe had done. Thankfully, he had the cover of night to keep him safe and away from any prying eyes, although it seemed as though the streets were fairly empty despite it being so early in the night. Then again, he _did_ tend to have that effect on the denizens of other planets.

He made his way with haste to the last place he recalled flying over before he had been so brutally torn through the front window of his ship and sent straight into that insubstantial alternate dimension those simpletons called a ‘Penal Zone’. It took a while, for he was both on foot and was trying to damage neither the Devil’s Toybox or the brain that was growing colder with each passing minute. He absolutely _had_ to hurry - the longer it took him to get it to the Brain Preservation Tank, the less likely it would survive.

When he had finally reached his ship, he had found it with the ramp already prepped, and his fur stood on end. Surely that _dog_ had not discovered his whereabouts before he had even _arrived_ , had he? Thankfully, the answer was ‘no’ - for when he reached the bottom of the ship’s ramp, Everett and Tiro were awaiting at the entrance, both seeming _very_ pleased to see him.

“General Skun-ka’pe!” Everett greeted as Skun-ka’pe ascended the ramp. Tiro had vanished - likely to tell the others the news of the General’s return. “It’s so good to see you - we came straight here as soon as we heard the barriers opened again. Here, let me free up one of your hands.”

“Thank you,” he said with a nod, allowing the younger space gorilla to take the Toybox from him, though not without warning, “Be _very_ careful with that. You may not be a Psychic, but it could still do damage if mishandled.”

“Not to worry, sir. I will be very careful.”

As he fully entered the ship, he heard the pleasant chatterings of his fellow space gorillas upon seeing him generally unharmed. However, as much as he would have loved to properly reassure them after such an ordeal, there was much work to be done and little time to do it. As he murmured greetings to each of them, he made his way up to the upper deck where the Tank was, a select few following behind him. Once he reached it, he instructed, “Remove this one-” Referring to the now grey and long dead brain lying at the bottom. “-And throw it into the Processor.”

Irwin did as he requested, removing the alien brain once known as Gordon and proceeding to take him over to that shut door. The door whirred open, followed by a sickening _splat_ sound, the door whirring shut, and then the machines behind the door buzzing as the Processor began to heat up. All the while, Skun-ka’pe was carefully placing the rabbit’s brain into the tank, eyeing everything carefully to make sure the brain would be able to properly function. It seemed that everything was in order - but the brain itself was currently in a state of unconsciousness. No surprise there - the process of removing the brain was, admittedly, a traumatizing one. Once it was past the initial shock of the procedure, he would have it properly up and running.

He turned back to his crew, looking over each of them with a calculating eye. “...Where is Rory?” he inquired.

“We sent him to the other side of town,” Tiro explained, “To keep an eye out for you, in case you could not locate the ship.”

“I see,” Skun-ka’pe replied, eyes glancing over the upper deck’s rail as Reyes seemed to pick up some small wooden object with some curiosity before looking back at Tiro. “Well, get him back here as soon as you can. Now that I have given away my return, we will be on a tight clock. We need to move as quickly as-”

He was interrupted by a strange sensation occurring throughout his entire body, and before he could even _show_ any sign of alarm, he was _hearing_ it from several of his crew members. They were looking down at themselves as a green aura began to overtake their very forms.

“The Toybox!” he heard Everett cry, and immediately looked down to see the Toybox, still in the safety of his hands, begin to glow in a strange way.

  
Confused but not allowing himself to be caught off-guard, Skun-ka’pe yelled to his men, “Do not be alarmed - _brace_ yourselves!” Though the other space gorillas were not quite certain how to do that, they put on brave faces nonetheless. The General proceeded to press a button on the Tank’s station, and at once a metal lid with a handle clamped over the top of it, and the Tank raised with a hiss. The last thing Skun-ka’pe was able to do before completely vanishing from his own ship alongside his crew was remove the Tank from its station.


	8. Night at the Mostly Natural History Museum: Secret of the Tomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracking Max down was the hard part. Getting him out is...also the hard part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes hi here's a surprise extra update uvu
> 
> also it needs to be said that while trying to replace the word 'eight' with 'thirteen' in a separate upcoming chapter i ended up replacing literally every 'eight' with 'thirteen' so words like height & weight became hthirteen & wthirteen. just thought i'd share that funny story lmao
> 
> anyway, enjoy the chapter

For once in his life, Sam found himself slowly pulling up to the front of the Museum of Mostly Natural History, looking up at the building which had a large sign advertising some sort of ancient Egyptian exhibit right on it. He recalled Max saying he wanted to visit this place when they got the chance, once upon a time. That was months ago, and they never did end up going together. Maybe Max had simply gone without him.

When he got out of the car, the first thing he did was go up and test the push door. It was, thankfully, unlocked, despite the hours sign in the window stating it shouldn’t have been. Then again, given the circumstances, there were a number of reasons it could have been left unlocked. He was about to push open the door to enter then paused, deciding to turn his gaze to Max’s body still slouched in the seat.

Although even he’d admit bringing the little guy in as casually as a small child bringing their stuffed toy with them would be on the creepier side, it at least seemed justifiable since it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave his body out where the _actual_ police may be able to catch him.

With the lagomorph in both of his arms once more, Sam practically kicked open the door, the door swinging wide open but slowly shutting behind him after he entered. He took Max to the dark corner right on the left of the entrance and gently placed him down, leaning him against the wall but allowing his head to remain tilted forward. “Just hang in there, li’l buddy,” he murmured as he readjusted the hat and jacket. He was beginning to find it harder to believe that the smell was just his imagination.

The inside of the building had no lights on, but the lighting from outside shone in through the windows and illuminated the interior well enough. He could see several glass cases, along with a hanging tapestry, a model of some sort of city with some sort of monster hanging over it, the text reading ‘THE COMING APOCALYPSE’, and the skeleton of a creature that absolutely did not exist. Then again, he supposed it was called ‘ _Mostly_ Natural History’ for a reason-

“Dammit,” the male voice made the dog flinch, “I had a feelin’ I forgot t’ lock that door. Looking over, he found that he was being approached by a cockroach bigger than he was, wearing a white shirt, a ball cap and a headset of some sort. Even before he said anything else, Sam had a feeling he was the security around here - but still, the cockroach said, “Look, sir, we’re not open at this hour, a’ight? You’ve gotta go.”

Figuring the guy was being civil and polite enough, the dog responded calmly, “Sam Barkley, Freelance Police. I’m here on an investigation.”

“Sal,” he introduced himself, then asked, “What sort of investigation?”

Sal...that name sounded familiar, but Sam wasn’t sure from where...“I’m searching for General Skunkape. Highly dangerous extraterrestrial felon, escaped his prison about two hours, maybe longer.”

“Huh. An’ I’m guessin’ you ain’t here ‘cause you’re guessin’.”

“Of course not. That’s why he’s been out for two hours. Is he here?”

“Sure he is. He was just sorta here an’ workin’ with my boss since I got here.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“Monsieur Papierwaite. He’s the owner of the museum.”

“And why would he be workin’ with Skunkape?”

“I don’t know. All Monsieur’s told me is t’ stay out of their way.”

“I notice you’re tellin’ me this pretty freely. You don’t seem very urgent t’ kick me out, either.”

“I should. I kinda need this job. But at the same time, the gorilla guy’s startin’ t’ freak me out, so if you’re here t’ take ‘im, fill your boots.”

“You don’t seem particularly freaked out.”

“I do well under stress.”

“A good trait to- hey…” His ears perks as a look of realization appeared on his features. “You were the old cook at the diner! Stinky’s Diner!”

“Yeah, I sure was.”

“Took me a second t’ realize ‘cause I never saw you. What happened?”

“ _Ehhh_ , Grandpa Stinky decided he preferred _not_ havin’ a cockroach run ‘is kitchen.”

“Sorry t’ hear that. Anyway - if ya’ said you need this job, then I’ll make sure your boss sees you’ve nothin’ t’ do with it, alright?”

“Sounds good. Um...what about the guy there, though?”

Sam’s tilted his head slightly, before following Sal’s gaze towards the slumped lagomorph in the corner. “Oh, him? That’s my partner. He’s, uh...unconscious. Ran into some trouble downtown. You know how it goes.”

“So he’s just asleep?” The cockroach made a sniffing noise. “...Smells awful.”

“Well, neither of us have taken a shower recently, so I can’t say I’m surprised. But yeah, he’s just sleepin’.”

“Okay, good. ‘Cause, uh-” He gave a small laugh. “If he were _dead_ or somethin’, I’d have t’ throw ‘im in the incinerator. Can’t have litter - boss’ orders.”

“...Right,” Sam murmured, then cleared his throat. “So, it’s alright if he stays here for now?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

“Perfect. Anyway - this hopefully won’t take long. Just stay outta the way for now, yeah?”

“You got it.” Sam gave a nod then walked right past him. “Oh-” He stopped and looked back at Sal. “Forgot t’ mention - all of their goin’ ons are in the planetarium. Take the first door on your left, you’ll go straight to it. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Never happened. Thank you.” The dog proceeded to make his way, leaving the other to do whatever he had to.

When Sam approached the door the cockroach had mentioned, the very first thing he noticed was the light shining out from under the door. It didn’t strike him as strange at first - he just figured the lights were on inside. Cautiously, he opened the door a crack, making sure to keep it as quiet as possible as to not alert anyone on the other side of it. He was surprised to find that he needed to squint upon opening the door even just a little - the lighting wasn’t so bad that his eyes needed adjusting, was it?

But then his eyes did adjust to the white light, and he soon found that the source of the light in the room was from no light fixture of any sort, but from what appeared to be a vortex that glowed half as bright as the damn sun, which extended all the way up to the ceiling. As Sam observed a little more closely, he could see that the source of it was because of a machine in the center of the large room - a machine with a brain in a glass tank attached to it.

“Shit,” he murmured under his breath. He questioned how he was going to go about this without getting caught, what with Max being right in the center. The unfortunate answer was, he probably couldn’t - but he still, he’d try, only because he wasn’t particularly fond of being attacked with any sort of intergalactic weapon those space gorillas had to offer. Quietly, he slipped in through the door, allowing it to silently shut it behind him, keeping a careful eye on the aliens below that seemed preoccupied with the light show going on-

“SAM!” Max’s excited voice rang through clearer than a bell in a schoolhouse, and the space gorillas grunted in surprise before quickly looking around. The first to spot him, of course, was Skun-ka’pe, who then pointed at the dog and yelled an order.

“Aw, son of a-” He gave a startled yelp as he found a laser just whizzing by his cheek, burning the door behind him. As more of those lasers started going in his direction, he promptly ducked behind the row of seats, and tried to go as quickly as he could while crouched behind them before somersaulting to the other row of seats. He’d had the distance on his side, and seeing as he was witnessing them still shooting at the chairs he’d just hidden behind, he figured it was safe to assume they hadn’t seen him move. But given that he also witnessed a chunk of one of the chairs practically explode after being shot too many times, he also figured he’d still have to move quickly before they started looking again.

He managed to sneak another row over before deciding to head down the stairs, still keeping his head low as to avoid drawing attention. As he was reaching the bottom steps, he heard the space gorillas shouting instructions at each other, having must have finally caught on that Sam wasn’t hiding there anymore. He was prepared to run and duck behind the machine Max was attached to, figuring they wouldn’t wish to shoot at that-

“What are you doing!?” he heard an unfamiliar voice shout, his eyes darting over to see that a man had just entered the door he’d gone through just a minute ago. “Why are you destroying my planetarium!?” Judging by the accent, he decided to assume it was that Monsieur Papierwaite guy Sal had mentioned.

“The dog is _in_ here to ruin _our_ plan!” Skun-ka’pe shouted back. While everything was distracted by this exchange, Sam got off of the stairs-

“Can you not handle him _without_ destroying _MY_ property!?” -And then ducked behind the machine, ignoring the rest of the argument.

“Sam!” Max said, quietly (which still wasn’t _very_ quiet but it didn’t seem to get anyone’s attention), “ _Finally_ , what took ya’ so long!?”

“Sorry, li’l buddy - lotta runnin’ around, talkin’ t’ difficult people - you know how it is.”

“Whatever, just get me the hell outta here!”

“Tell me what t’ do.”

“Okay, _uhhh_ , there should be a panel on the side there-”

“Okay, yeah, I see it.”

“Alright, good! Now open that-”

Sam did, then paused. “Wait, there’s _wires?_ ”

“‘Course there is! Why wouldn’t there be?”

“I mean, fair, but- wait, if I unhook them wrong, is that gonna do somethin’ to ya’?” Max made an _‘I don’t know’_ noise. “Max-!”

“Ugh, okay! I don’t _know_ , but I think it was a blue wire he hooked up t’ me!”

“Max…”

“Yes, Sammothy?”

Sam made sure his voice was _extra_ quiet as he yell-whispered, “They’re _ALL_ blue!”

The lagomorph brain groaned. “Okay, okay- _light_ blue!”

“ _How_ light!?”

“I don’t _KNOW_ ,” he said a little too loudly, “I’m a _BRAIN_ , Sam!”

Shortly after he’d practically _yelled_ that, Skun-ka’pe shouted, “ _OVER THERE!_ ”

“...Oops,” Max mumbled.

Sam, now alarmed, looked around the machine, and- yeah, they were definitely coming his way, _aaand_ that was definitely a laser that went by his head. “Okay - here goes nothin’-” Hoping for the best, Sam proceeded to reach into the compartment and _yank_ all of the wires out.

The lagomorph brain gave a loud yelp, then yelled at him, “OW!?”

“Sorry-” He was cut off by the vortex suddenly vanishing as quickly as one shuts off a light, various toys suddenly falling and clattering to the floor, one even banging off of Sam’s shoulder and landing on the floor. Taking this convenience as a sign, he decided to grab the tin can-like toy and pocket it just as the sound of alarms started going off.

Ignoring the other shots being taken at him, along with the various shouts from Skun-ka’pe and Papierwaite, the dog stood up and, with no hesitation, hauled Max’s tank off of the podium thing - and just in time to duck as a space gorilla, now close enough within hitting range, swung at him. While ducking, he ran past and quickly dodged to the left as another one of Skun-ka’pe’s minions tried to grab him before continuing to run. Up the stairs, past the burnt seats, ducking his head at the shots still being fired at him, to the door he came in through-

Only for metal bars to suddenly slam down in front of it.

“What the hell!?” Max said.

“What?” Papierwaite said, making the dog look over in his direction. “Did you really think you’d get away so easily?”

“He must’ve made it so the security would kick in-” Sam managed to say, before another laser whizzed by him. He ignored Papierwaite’s enraged shout at the space gorillas to ‘stop destroying his planetarium’, and started running along the top platform towards the nearest other door. Thankfully, this one didn’t suddenly lock up, and he was able to burst out of it. He turned right to the direction the front entrance would be-

And there were metal bars in the way at the end of the hall, too.

“Dammit - he’s just blocked off the entrance!”

“Well, _figures_. I mean, like he said, they weren’t gonna let m- wait, is that my body over there?”

“Yes.”

“...What the heck am I wearing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, just before a space gorilla burst out of the door behind him. This time, he shifted Max’s tank to one arm and pulled out his revolver and fired - and was surprised to find the alien grunting in pain and clutching his shoulder. Guess the _bulletproof_ thing was just a _Skun-ka’pe_ thing. Once the gorilla was no longer an immediate threat, Sam took off running down the hall.

Skun-ka’pe exited that same door, and upon seeing the wounded minion, shot a glare at the fleeing dog. “ _After him!_ ” he shouted at his other minions.

“Could ya’ stop _jostlin’_ me so much?” Max complained as Sam ran, “Makin’ me feel sicker than I was hooked up to that damn thing.”

“Would if I could, li’l buddy, but we gotta outspeed those guys before they try t’ make doggy swiss cheese out of me.”

“Ugh, don’t say that. That’s all I’m gonna think about when I look at swiss cheese now.”

“Shut it, you-” Sam noticed someone coming around the corner, and as soon as his mind registered that it was Sal, he practically skidded to a halt to avoid running straight into him. “Sal!” he said in surprise.

“Sam, hey, funny thing, I was just lookin’ for ya’ - do you have anythin’ t’ do with the alarms and the whole place bein’ put on lockdown alluva sudden?”

“ _Uhhh_...” He glanced over his shoulder, saw the close was clear, then looked back at the cockroach. “Yeah, just a li’l bit. Sorry.”

“I mean- wait...are you carryin’ a _brain?_ ”

“Look, Sal, I’ll say it to ya’ straight - you _really_ need t’ hide somewhere or somethin’, it’s not-” Before he could finish his warning, there was once again several lasers whizzing past him, which made him flinch and earned a started cry from Sal. “Sorrygottagoj _uststaysafe,_ ” he said quickly as he ran past the cockroach, turning another corner. “ _God_ , hopefully he’ll be okay,” Sam mumbled.

“We need t’ find a place t’ hide,” Max said. “You won’t outrun ‘em forever.”

“Well I _could_ , but I’d rather not try.”

“I said _won’t_ , not _can’t_. Ya’ need t’ open the first door y’ can and duck in.”

“They’ll find me, won’t they?”

The lagomorph brain considered the question. “...You picked up a toy back there, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah-” He proceeded to pull the tin can toy which read ‘Can O’ Nuts’ on the label out. “D’you think it’ll help us?”

As soon as it was pulled out, Max felt that tugging sensation again, but this time - and he figured it was because he was _just_ a brain at the moment - there was a little more clarity to it, and it felt as if he’d always known what it did despite never seeing it before in his life. As a result, he replied, “I know it will. Don’t ask how, just- do what I said.”

“Alright.” As soon as Sam saw a door, he’d test the handle. The first few were locked, but one eventually opened up, and he ducked into the dark room, shutting the door behind him. Not too long after, though, he could hear rapidly approaching footsteps. “Okay - now what?”

“Now open up my jar thingy and put your hand in and touch me.”

“I- wh- _huh_.”

“You heard me.”

“I... _really_ cannot emphasize enough how much I don’t wanna do that-” There was the sound of a door being slammed open.

“There’s no time to be a baby about this, Sam, just do it!”

Another door being slammed open. The dog grimaced with disgust, but nonetheless put the Can O’ Nuts down and started unlatching the top of Max’s tank, tentatively putting a hand in- “ _Oh_ , this is cold and gross.”

“How the hell do ya’ think _I_ feel?” Another door gone. “Hurry it up!”

“Okay, _okay_ -” He refused to put his whole hand on Max’s brain, but he did point one index finger and allow the paw pad on it to just brush against him enough to count as contact.

Max huffed. “Coward.” The next door slammed in was _much_ closer. “Okay. Here goes nothin’.”

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening - and then Sam began to feel a weird tingling throughout his body, followed by a vague feeling of nausea. “What the h-” And then the two vanished into the can.

There was the sound of the door being burst open. The sound of breathing and the buzz of energy coming from the laser pistol. There was the sound of the light being turned on. A pause - then a nonchalant grunt. Finally, there was the sound of footsteps walking further, and further away, until they were barely audible.

The can opened up again and both Sam and Max’s brain reappeared once again.

“...I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” Sam said.

“Could ya’ get your hand out of my jar before ya’ do.”

“ _Gladly_ .” The dog removed his arm and shook it off for a full ten seconds before closing off the top of Max’s jar. Trying to ignore the intense feeling of vertigo (jeez - was _this_ what Max had to deal with every time?), he crawled over to the door on his hands and knees and peered around. Wherever Skun-ka’pe’s minions had gone, they were no longer in either of the halls. He sighed, then shifted himself so that he was sitting with his back against the wall, shutting his eyes as he tried _not_ to get sick.

After a few moments, Max said, “Sam, look, there’s a staircase!” The dog opened his eyes and glanced around before noticing there was something in the corner. Leaning over slightly, he could see the top stair. “Maybe there’s some sorta secret passage deal down there!”

“Maybe,” Sam replied. With a grunt, he got up to his feet, scooping up Max’s tank into his arms and making his way to the staircase. Looking down from the top, it seemed pitch black.

“Might wanna hold the rail. For _my_ sake.”

“Good idea.”

The two slowly descended down the stairs into the pitch black room, Sam holding Max’s tank with one arm while holding on for dear life to the rail that was the only thing guiding him semi-safely right now. Eventually, he walked off the last stair and onto the floor. “Can’t see a damn thing,” Max muttered.

“There’s probably a light switch _somewhere_...just hang on.” He carefully set Max down on the floor, then began blindly feeling around the wall.

“Feel anything yet?” the lagomorph brain asked after a minute.

“No, not y- wait...yes!” With a proud smile, Sam flicked on a lightswitch. “Aha! There we go.” He went back over to the tank and picked Max up. “Now to see where-”

“Uh,” Max interrupted, “Sam?”

“What?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“Could you...look over for a second?”

Though confused, Sam turned his head over to the side - and immediately went wide-eyed. “Great skeletons from a plot-holed riddled story gone to complete waste, what the _hell_ is that!?”

“I think, Sam - and I could be wrong! But I _think_ those are meant t’ be our great-granddads.”

“They look like the images you find looking up ‘taxidermy gone wrong’.”

“Hey, that-! Is...fair, actually.”

For context, the first thing either had laid eyes on in this surprisingly _clean_ basement area were statues of their great-grandfathers Sameth and Maximus respectively, with Sameth holding Maximus underneath the armpits and Maximus holding out a match, both of them looking towards a corner of the ceiling. However, they appeared to be _old_ statues, and if they ever once had a more accurate resemblance to their real life counterparts, it had certainly vanished with time.

“Why the hell would Papierwaite have our _great-grandpas_ in his museum?” Sam questioned, still visibly baffled.

“They were semi-famous explorers, Sam - I’d say they fit the bill in a museum that’s half fact, half truth- false. I mean false.”

“Nice save. But given how much we’ve already seen, I’m not so sure if I’d consider any of it- false…” He paused after having a realization mid-sentence. “...Wait, is this the reason you wanted t’ go t’ this place? To see an exhibit about-?”

“What? No. I didn’t even know this was ever here.” Pause. “...You actually remembered that? That was _months_ ago that I said that.”

Sam blinked, caught on that he was referring to the dog remembering how he’d wanted to go to the museum, then gave an awkward frown. “... _Well_ -”

“A-Actually, nevermind. Let’s just keep goin’, alright?”

“...Yeah. Sure.”

Sam shuffled awkwardly past the statues, lifting Max’s tank over his head to squeeze past, and continued through the basement area. There were lots of other placards and statues from what appeared to be retired exhibits, but both of them found themselves looking specifically for things related to their great-grandparents. The first thing, spotted by Sam, was what seemed to be some sort of special sign meant to advertise the exhibit, leaned against the wall.

“‘Sameth & Maximus: Explorers of the Worlds Beyond,’” the dog read aloud. “Makes it sound like they traveled t’ space or somethin’.”

“‘Opening summer, 1982’...’82?” Max sounded a little puzzled.

“Jeez. This stuff ain’t much younger than we are.”

“No, it’s not...that…” The tone of his voice made Sam look at him with a slight furrow of his brows. “It’s just...that’s the year _after_ he died…”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Max, that…we can just keep movin’ on if this is-”

“No! No, I wanna know why this guy’s got this crap- _shit!_ ”

“What!?” he asked, alarmed, immediately looking around in case there was some sort of danger.

“I almost completely forgot t’ tell you-”

“Tell me _what?_ ”

“Maximus, he- he was a Psychic like me apparently!”

“... _What?_ ”

“Yeah! It started with the projector toy I found- when I touched it, it, like, _launched_ me in there- I was tellin’ you about this, wasn’t I?”

“You were,” Sam confirmed, hoping Max wouldn’t remember the unpleasant attitude Sam had had the first time he was explaining the astral projector to him.

Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with rambling to remember. “Right. So the tapes, it showed me this _scene_ and it was when our great-grandpas were in the tomb place in Egypt or whatever, and there’d been two things - one, the Toybox was there, and two, Sameth had asked me, as Maximus, if it was givin’ me a hard time. And I _sorta_ had my suspicions, but then my brain was bein’ torn outta my head-” He noticed the dog wince slightly. “Don’t worry, it didn’t really hurt all things considered. But anyway, I was talkin’ to that guy-”

“Papierwaite?”

“Yeah, him. He was talkin’ to me, and he was sayin’ about how totally super sexy I was- I’m just jokin’, by the way.”

“I got that,” he said, a little flatly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And then he was like ‘I’ve only met one other Psychic before’, and then he said my old papa’s name!”

“...Huh. ‘Worlds Beyond’,” he murmured. “...Do ya’ think there’s more to their adventures than what we know?”

“There’s gotta be. And paperweight man knows what’s up. Which is why we _gotta_ keep lookin’.”

“Hey, I was never opposed.”

They continued to search for more of the old exhibit pieces. Max eventually spotted a placard that he saw mentioned Maximus’ name, and said, “Wait- to your left.” Sam stopped and turned to face it.

_Both born in the late 1880s, Sameth Eisenhowler and Maximus Conejo took the world by surprise, having gone on their first expedition to the Tomb of Sammun-Mak as young as 19 years of age. Their journeys would continue up until 1918 when Conejo became married to Elénor Lapine…_

“As much as I’d love readin’ their life story,” Max said, “I already know this stuff.”

“You said you saw the Toybox while in a tomb - maybe we should find something related to this Tomb of Sammun-Mak expedition they went on.”

“We should!”

While they continued their search, Sam’s attention was caught by the several empty spots on one of the shelves. “It’s like somethin’ was sat there for a while and then…” he murmured, before his eyes lit up in realization. “There was a sign outside for an ancient Egyptian exhibit. Maybe he brought back some of this old stuff for it…”

“He’s bringin’ back crap from thirty years ago?”

“The guy’s puttin’ a _planetarium_ in a history museum.”

“So? What’s wrong with that?”

“I just- I dunno, that doesn’t sound like somethin’ ya’ do unless you’re desperate t’ get people t’ come in.” Max gave an indifferent grunt. “Anyway - we’ll have t’ find it later if we can. I’d say ‘let’s hope it’s not important’, but knowin’ our luck, it is.”

“And now that you’ve said that, it’s gonna turn out that it isn’t.”

“Probably- wait, hang on. Found somethin’.”

_...In 1908, Eisenhowler and Conejo had won their expedition via a “Challenge of the Sphunx” ran by traveling Frenchman Aaren Pepito Twain. The challenge had been designed to locate someone with “the Gift”, which was required to enter the Tomb of Sammun-Mak, and Conejo had won…_

“Oh, oh!” Max said excitedly. “We’re ont’ somethin’ - keep reading!”

_...This had been the initial awakening of Conejo’s mysterious abilities...The pair traveled to the Tomb of the Psychic King-_

“‘Psychic King?’”

“Guess Sammun-Mak had the Gift like you and Maximus did,” Sam replied. “Makes sense, if ya’ think about it.”

If Max had shoulders, he’d have shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

_-Which had been guarded by the Boxists - a tribe of Molemen once said to possess mystical abilities that worshipped the Devil’s Toybox…_

Sam searched for a different placard, eventually finding one that read; _Upon their return, however, it had been revealed that Twain had tricked them into bringing him the Toybox as to summon Yog-Soggoth, forcing Maximus to help him...His plan had failed, and he had vanished. Although there are no reports on what occurred after, it is likely that Conejo and Eisenhowler returned the Toybox to the Boxists as to keep it protected…_

“Very humble of him to tell a story of his defeat,” Sam commented.

“Who? The Pepsi Twain guy?”

“You can’t tell that that’s Papierwaite’s false name?”

“No, I- wait, do you mean it’s one of those anagrams?”

“Yeah! I mean, I don’t have a pen and paper on me t’ prove it, but who else would know about this Aaren guy other than the guy himself. Besides, the name isn’t very French-sounding-”

Max gave a light-hearted scoff. “God, you’re _such_ a mystery novel nerd.”

“Could always call it after the first three chapters.”

“Ya’ sure could. Anyway, let’s keep goin’!”

“I don’t think there’s anything t’ keep goin’ _with_ , li’l pal - I’m not seein’ anything else related to ‘em.”

“ _Awww_.” The lagomorph brain sunk in the tank slightly, his tone disappointed. “But we were just gettin’ t’ the fun stuuuff.”

“I feel that. But hey, maybe we can still learn more cool stuff. I mean, if we find that missing stuff about this Sammun-Mak guy…”

“Eh, maybe. I only find this stuff cool ‘cause it’s about my bisabuelo.”

“That’s fair. Anyway - if there’s nothin’ else here, we should keep goin’. See if maybe there’s another way around this place.”

“Sounds good t’ me.”


	9. The Mad Pharaoh's Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight to return Max's brain to his body continues.

“Y’know, Sam, I had a thought,” Max spoke as they continued walking, the light seeming a little dimmer as they neared the back of the basement area.

“And what’s that?”

“That one thingy said that Sameth and Maximus might’ve returned the Toybox to the Boxists t’ keep it safe…”

“Mhm?”

“I think maybe we should do the same. I mean - we both saw what it can do in the wrong hands. And, uh-” Not wanting to admit his  _ fear _ of the Toybox, he simply settled for saying, “I mean, I don’t want much t’ do with it either, personally, so.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the best thing t’ do,” Sam agreed. “We should probably come up with a way t’ stop Skunkape and Papierwaite first, though.”

“Yeah, those molemen didn’t stand much of a chance against BonziBuddy back there. I wasn’t even sure if they were  _ alive _ , to be honest.”

“Right, exactly. But hey, as soon as there aren’t any immediate threats to their safety, we could certainly do that. Maybe even try t’ find ‘em a new place to hide  _ not _ under our- ... _ my _ apartment.”

Max paused. “...Right.” He seemed to perk up suddenly, and said, “Hey, stairs!”

Again, the lighting this far back in the basement wasn’t as great, but there was a faint light revealing another set of stairs. Looking up them, Sam could see a small window that was allowing light from an outside street lamp to shine in. He decided to go up a few stairs to get a closer look. Surely enough the window was attached to a door that led out into an alley at the side of the building - but just as the door leading to the front lobby had been barred off back in the planetarium, so this door, too, was blocked by metal bars.

“No surprise there,” Sam said. “Any ideal security would make sure  _ all _ exits were blocked.”

“But that means we have t’ do more  _ wooork _ ,” Max grumbled.

“Not necessarily more work, just...more  _ creative _ .” He adjusted his tie. “‘Nother aspect of the job.”

“Hey, least it’s not as crappy.”

“In the figurative or punny sense?”

“Yes.”

Keeping in mind that backdoor’s location, the two headed out of the basement. Sam made sure to pick up the Can O’ Nuts on the way to the door that led to the museum hall, glancing up and down it once again to make sure none of their pursuers were there. “I know this is a completely ludicrous request, but let’s  _ try _ t’ keep things down, alright, Max?”

“My volume control is that of a microwave’s beeps disturbing the peaceful slumber of disgruntled and disappointed parents whilst making hot pockets at 4am, but sure, I could try.”

“We should try t’ find that Egyptian exhibit,” Sam said with a lowered voice as he continued quietly out into the hall. “See if we can’t find out anything else that might be of use.”

“I hope we find out his dead body’s in there.”

Refraining from making the comment that he had seen enough dead bodies for one day, the dog simply replied, “I hope we don’t.”

. . .

Navigating through the museum had been a bit hellish - the space gorillas may have stopped looking for the Freelance Police in that particular hallway, but they were crawling all over the place. There was a lot of going down  _ this _ hallway instead of  _ that _ to avoid the minions, or duck beside a display while waiting for them to pass by (Sam  _ refused _ to use that tin can again) and even when they reached the exhibit, there were still several gorillas wandering the place.

“This is gonna be  _ really _ annoying,” Sam muttered. “How’re we supposed t’ get around without ‘em spottin’ us?”

“You’re askin’ me?  _ You’re _ the one with a body right n- wait, shush.”

“Why’re you shushin’ me, you were the one talki-”

“ _ Shhh! _ They’re sayin’ somethin’.”

Sam did as he said and shut his mouth, raising his ears forward some to listen. Surely enough, the minions were talking amongst themselves.

“This blows,” one of the minions said. “Everyone is doin’ the fun part of trackin’ some crooks around, and we’re stuck here on babysittin’ some dusty old junk.”

“Real rich coming from the guy that got shot,” another replied. Sam covered his mouth with a hand.

“I might’ve got a bullet in my shoulder, but I could still strangle that dog with one hand.”

“ _ Please _ don’t complain,” a different space gorilla spoke up. “None of us wanna stand here, but we’re all only doin’ this for Skun-ka’pe-”

“Well, ‘f course we’re only doin’ it for him. I sure don’ give two deuces ‘bout that human and protectin’ his precious museum. If the General didn’t say anythin’, I’d have told it to shove it up his hairless-”

“Papierwaite  _ asked _ them t’ stand watch here,” Sam whispered in realization. “He’s gotta have somethin’ important in here. There’s no way we’ll find it with them around, though…”

“So we don’t,” Max replied as quietly as he could manage. “Let’s get ‘em outta here.”

“I guess we could lure ‘em away,” the dog agreed. “But we gotta do it without gettin’ riddled with laser bullets.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be  _ that _ hard. All it takes is knockin’ somethin’ over.”

“No, we need somethin’ bigger than that so they’ll  _ stay _ distracted so we have time t’ look around.” Max merely hummed, and Sam put a hand on his chin in thought. “...Well...Papierwaite  _ was _ pretty angry about them shootin’ up his planetarium…”

“This is probably the most excited I’ve been to hear a plan of yours,” Max said. “Please continue.”

“I’ll just cut right to the chase, li’l buddy - we’re gonna have t’ destroy some things and make it look like someone else did it.”

“ _ Nice. _ Where do we start?”

The dog thought for a moment, then peered from their hiding spot. “... _ Juuust _ gimme a minute or two.” He put Max’s tank down, then proceeded to crawl away on his hands and knees. A minute or two later, he returned.

“What did you just-” Sam lifted up the laser pistol that he’d stolen from one of the minions’ holsters. “Oh  _ hell _ yeah.”

“Let’s go try and find a smart target - we gotta avoid makin’ it seem like  _ completely  _ mindless destruction so they don’t catch on.”

“That’s only half as fun but it’s fine, I’m with ya’.”

Sam scooped up Max’s tank again and quietly snuck out of the exhibit unnoticed. “If you had t’ destroy  _ one _ thing,” he eventually said once he felt it was safe to speak, “What would it be.”

“Somethin’ big, obviously. That way you could take other things down with it and still say it was an accident!”

“There’s a skeleton of a- well, I dunno  _ what _ it is, actually, but it’s about as tall as the ceiling.”

“Ooh! Yeah, let’s do that!”

“Sounds like-” The dog cut himself off upon hearing a voice coming from the hall he was about to turn into, and he paused by the corner, crouching just in case someone came around unexpectedly. It was Sal speaking.

“...Gotta understand, sir - if there’s somethin’ sketchy goin’ on in the buildin’, I’d really rather not  _ be _ here,” he said.

“I am very sorry,” Papierwaite’s voice came in reply, “I want nothing more than for you to not be involved, but the security system works on pressure sensitivity. It will not shut off until the item is returned to its proper spot. I promise I will provide compensation…”

Max gave a huff. “‘Until the item’s returned’.”

“Guess that’s code for we ain’t leavin’ until you’re put back,” Sam murmured.

“Well, we could’ve guessed that ourselves. Anyway - you should probably get out the can again, just in case.” The dog gave a low, grossed out groan at the suggestion, but nonetheless pulled out the Can O’ Nuts from his pocket, accidentally pulling the playing card out with it. The lagomorph brain seemed to perk. “What th- you didn’t tell me ya’ had other toys!”

“Hm?” Sam noticed the card lying on the floor. “Oh yeah,” he said, picking it up. “I mean, it legitimately slipped my mind, but I couldn’t even guess what this one does, so I wouldn’t have been sure if-”

“ _ I _ do!” Max interrupted, practically trembling with anticipation. “C’mon, quick, open me up, we gotta use it while we have the ch-”

“Okay, okay! Relax, I got it.” He unlatched the top of Max’s tank again. “What’s this do?” he asked as he stuck his hand in, attempting to ignore how disgusting this all was.

“You’ll see. Keep the can out - I’ll try t’ hide us if he’s about t’ come over.”

“Alright,” Sam replied, “I trust you.” If Max had a heart, it might’ve leapt at that statement.

“...In one of the back rooms until this is over,” Papierwaite was saying.

“Alright. Thank you.” There was the sound of footsteps walking away - presumably Sal’s.

And then there was a voice directly inside of Sam’s head - Papierwaite’s - but opposed to Gordon speaking directly to him and Max, it seemed that he was just simply hearing the man’s thoughts, which were:  _ This is embarrassing. I should have just fought for the Toybox while I had the chance - now everything is crumbling!  _ There was the audible sound of him pacing in that hallway, and the thoughts continued,  _ Shooting carelessly at everything...it was a lucky thing they were nowhere near my precious tapestry.  _ A pause.  _...I should make sure none of the ones I sent to guard Sammun-Mak’s brain have screwed anything up. I cannot fully trust them t- _

**_Q͘ O̶͘͟ D̴̶͝ ̛͝ Y̕̕͢͞͏ E͏͜͞ D̢̛.͏͠_ **

It felt as if something had reached into Sam’s ribcage and squeezed the hell out of his lungs, and he inhaled a deep, raspy breath before promptly dropping the card to cover his mouth. Max was whispering something urgently to him, but Sam couldn’t hear him - his hearing was muffled, and he couldn’t tell if they were in danger of being caught or not which only made the painfully tight feeling in his chest worse. It was only a mere few seconds before he started coming back to his senses again, though it felt like an eternity to him. He removed the hand from his mouth to wipe at the involuntary tears at the edges of his eyes.

“Earth to Sam - ya’ back with me?” Max asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

The dog sniffed and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice still a little scratchy. “Yeah, I’m good now.”

“Jesus...I have no idea what happened th- oh  _ shit _ , Sam, your nose!”

“What about i-” he’d started asking, then cut himself off the moment he wiped a thumb over his nostril, the scent of blood becoming apparent as soon as he did so. He stared at his thumb with wide, shocked eyes. “ _ Shit _ …”

“...Maybe we should try t’ lay off the toys.  _ I _ might be totally able t’ handle it, but you...I mean, no offense.”

“None taken. I get it, and I think you’re right.” The dog cleaned his nose as best he could, as well as his hand that had been in Max’s tank. “So it’s another brain he has ‘em protecting,” he said as he was latching Max’s tank back up. “That’s good t’ know. Extremely  _ creepy _ , but good t’ know.”

“He mentioned somethin’ about a ‘precious tapestry’, too.”

“I think I know which one he’s talkin’ about.”

“Well, if that’s the case, may I make a small, teensy request?”

“ _ Aaand _ what would that be?”

“Could we steal the match from old papa’s screwed up statue to set it on fire?”

The dog blinked. “...What.”

“Listen, Sam, it’s a chance to commit arson and burn down somethin’ of historical value, and for the bullshit  _ I _ am currently going through, I am legally obligated to this one thing.”

“God - Library of Alexandria fans would  _ hate _ you, li’l buddy.”

“Can’t say I’d blame ‘em.”

. . .

After some more dodging and hiding, they managed to retrieve the match (which was, shockingly enough, an actual, functioning match) and headed back to the front lobby that was still blocked off by the security-

“Man,” Max said, sounding annoyed, “Even from  _ here _ , I can’t friggin’ tell what I’m wearing. What the hell did you do t’ me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam replied as he stood in front of the tapestry, which depicted some sort of tentacle-y creature donning armour and a sword while standing on a cliff, and attempted to climb the displays just below it to try and reach it. As soon as he felt that he was close enough to reach it, he took out the match. It took a few tries to strike it, but eventually he was able to. “Alright, Max - ready for the light show?”

“Ohoho, I was  _ born _ ready. Let it burn,  _ baby! _ ”

“Couldn’t have said it any better myself.” With that, he raised the match to the fabrics of the tapestry, the flame catching almost immediately and quickly eating away at the threads.

“Thank you, Maximus,” Max said, joy in his tone, “For once again helping me set somethin’ on fire from beyond the grave.”

“We’ve destroyed somethin’ important-” The dog pulled the laser pistol from his holster, and turned to the large skeleton of a supposedly mythical creature, and aimed. “Now t’ get their attention.” With one, two -  _ three _ whole shots, Sam managed to slice through one of the legs of the display. He quickly put the gun away and picked up Max’s tank as the skeleton rapidly started falling to pieces, the bones crashing to the floor loudly, and he stepped into the ‘COMING APOCALYPSE’ display, hiding behind the monster. The collapsing skeleton shattered parts of the floor, and one of the wings fell right into a glass case, the sound of glass breaking ringing clear through the museum.

Almost immediately, some space gorillas were running in, pistols in hand. Sam leaned slightly to get a look at them. At first, they were looking around to see where the perpetrators had gone, then one started gesturing for the other two to start searching in different directions. One ended up looking over the mess of bones that was previously the skeleton while the other was observing the still burning tapestry.

“Crap,” Sam murmured. “Do ya’ think we should’ve-” He was interrupted by Max shushing him and he went silent, seeing the reason why. One minion was coming directly towards their hiding spot. Sam stopped leaning, fully concealing himself behind the monster again, though he put a hand on his trusty revolver in case he got too close…

Thankfully, he wasn’t given the chance.

“What in the ten layers of hell’s name is going on in-” Papierwaite had shouted as he stormed in angrily, before giving a sharp gasp at the sight of the skeleton completely collapsed and the tapestry on fire. “ _ Oh mes bons dieux! _ ” he exclaimed shrilly, gripping the sides of his head in pure shock, “My exhibits! My precious tapestry!” He shot a nasty glare towards each of the three minions in the area. “ _ What did you do!? _ ”

“Hey, hey, we didn’t do anything!” the gorilla closest to Sam and Max’s hiding spot said, turning their back to them to face Papierwaite.

“Yeah, we just got here!” another chimed in.

“Liars!” the man accused. “You absolute brutes - it was bad enough you left  _ scorching holes _ in my poor walls, now you have gone and destroyed my displays, and worse!  _ My precious tapestry of Yog-Soggoth’s- _ ”

“What is going on here!?” came the deep voice of Skun-ka’pe suddenly, interrupting Papierwaite’s rant. “What meaning do you have yelling at  _ my _ crew like that!?”

“Open your eyes, you damned fool! Do you not see what they have done!? They have shot down my Wyvern, and their  _ bullets  _ have lit my tapestry aflame-!”

“An honest mistake, I am sure-”

“It does not matter if it was a mistake, it was plain  _ reckless! _ ”

“You do not have the  _ right _ to yell at them like that. If you have a problem, you speak with  _ me _ -”

“Oh, I have a problem! Your  _ pea brained baboons _ have done  _ NOTHING _ but wreck my museum-”

“ _ DON’T YOU INSULT MY BOYS, YOU MERE  _ **_STICK_ ** _ OF A MAN- _ ” It sounded as if while yelling that, Skun-ka’pe had made an attempt to assault Papierwaite, but there was suddenly the sound of electricity crackling that made Sam feel compelled to look and see what was happening. And to put it simply - a fight between Skun-ka’pe and Papierwaite was happening.

“I should have  _ NEVER _ let you in here, you  _ stupid- _ ” the man was angrily shouting, his hands sparking with green energy, though he was cut off from Sam’s hearing when the gorilla in front of him started shouting, him along with the other two minions running to go assist their leader in battle.

“I can’t tell what’s goin’ on,” Max said, “But I sure like the sounds of it!”

“You crack me up, li’l buddy. C’mon - let’s go see if that exhibit’s safe t’ navigate now.”

. . .

The ancient Edyptian exhibit was safe to navigate now. There was no longer a single space gorilla in sight - they must have all headed off as soon as they heard the commotion going on downstairs.

“Alright,” Sam said, placing Max’s tank on top of one of the displays without a care in the world. “Let’s find that brain, then get outta here.”

“Awww, what happened t’ readin’ about this guy?”

“I’m sorry, li’l pal, but I’d rather not waste time while we have it. Maybe after this, if this place is still standin’ after they’re done, maybe we could sneak in and try t’ make a proper- day out of…” He’d faltered when he’d looked at the lagomorph brain, and though Max currently had no eyes, he could still somehow feel as though he was receiving a hard stare. “...I’ll just find the brain,” he mumbled.

“Wh- wait, Sam, I-” The dog had already turned and walked away and Max groaned, muttering under his breath, “Just hadn’t expected you to offer…” He sighed and decided to keep himself preoccupied, turning in his jar and admiring the displays while he could-

And paused upon seeing an image of a young boy, with a clouded eye, wearing pretty fancy garb (which he assumed was Sammun-Mak himself) with a sword in hand (which he recalled from the stories about Maximus was likely his famous blade) and a foot atop the Devil’s Toybox. He observed it for a moment longer, before his attention turned to the placard in front of it.

**_THE MAD PHARAOH_ **

_ Sammun-Mak is one of the most prominent examples of the Devil’s Toybox’s power - both the good and the ugly. Sammun-Mak was a highly skilled warrior at such a young age, but it was likely his young age that made him so easily susceptible to the corruption of the Toybox. The young King had gone insane, and with it his benevolence of his people vanished, earning him the title of ‘The Mad Pharaoh’. His tyranny would be put to the end by the Boxist tribe, which was said to have removed his brain and… _

“Found it!” Max turned around to see Sam holding some sort of urn. “It’s strange,” he continued as he went back over to Max to pick him up. “The stuff in here smells exactly like the Demon Broth, but...staler.”

“Wait- you mean he might be  _ alive _ like that?”

“I’d rather not think too hard about it, but - yeah. Probably.” He started exiting the exhibit, heading towards the planetarium.

“Jeez, and he’s, like, a billion years old.”

“He certainly would have had to have been in there a long time. Hopefully he won’t get a culture shock when he inevitably wakes up.”

“W- …’Wakes up?’”

“Yeah, of course. I gotta hook ‘im up to that machine t’ get the security down, and I doubt he’s gonna stay asleep once I do that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.”

Sam couldn’t help but raise a brow. “...You okay, Max?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just...Sam, about the Toybox-”

“ _ Shoot _ , I nearly forgot about that. I gotta make sure I take that with us before we-” His ears raised at the realization that he’d interrupted Max, and an apologetic look appeared on his features. “Sorry. What were you gonna say?”

Max  _ had _ wanted to bring up the mildly alarming thing he had read about the Toybox, but thanks to Sam’s interruption, he realized he was better off not sharing it. He wasn’t sure what Sam’s reaction would be, but the last thing he wanted was it to make him question if bringing the Toybox with them would have been a good idea, so he simply said, “No, no, that  _ was _ what I was gonna say. I mean, I know a lot’s happened since I mentioned that, so.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

They spent the rest of the walk in silence, and eventually found themselves in the planetarium, the sounds of the fight audible even from in there. Sam ignored it, though, as he descended the stairs and went straight to the machine.

“Okay, so-” the dog started explaining as he put both the urn and tank down, “I’m gonna have t’ do a bit of a switcheroo for this t’ work.”

“Wait, a switcheroo?” Max questioned as Sam started unlatching his tank. “You’re gonna put me in some dusty old jar?”

“It’s the only way, I’m afraid.” He reached in.

“Whoa, hey-!” Whether or not he was about to protest, he was cut short after being removed from his tank. Sam then took the Pharaoh’s brain out of the urn and plopped it into the tank, then placed Max’s in the urn. He closed up the tank, then placed it on top of the pedestal, then crouched to where the compartment with the wires had been, the wires dangling uselessly thanks to Sam tearing them out earlier.

“Let’s see…” he murmured, then went through the careful process of trying to hook them up properly. It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually he hooked up the last wire and heard a spark of electricity go through the machine and into the tank. Shortly after that, he heard the sound of the metal bars sliding back up, and looking in that direction, the door to the front lobby was now accessible again. “Alright - step one complete-” He looked at the urn with Max’s brain now in it. “Now t’ finally accomplish the main goal…” His gaze turned to the Devil’s Toybox resting idly, and he snapped his fingers. “And can’t forget about that, either.

He took the urn in one arm and the Toybox in the other, then headed up to the now unlocked door, and carefully opened it and peeked an eye out to make sure it was okay to leave. He saw the sight of lights and could hear the sounds of fighting happening, but he couldn’t see the actual fight going on. In any case, they seemed to have not noticed that the security had been lifted, and promptly exited, beelining it for Max’s body.

The fight of magic and alien technology occurring behind him, Sam crouched next to Max’s limp body, set aside the urn and the Toybox, and removed the hat to expose the jagged line where the scalp had been sliced. He lifted it up enough to put Max’s brain in, then closed it again, placing the hat back on snuggly over his ears.

It took one moment, then another, and another. And then- “...Thhere’s no way you’re goonna-” Max spoke suddenly, his words seriously slurred, and looking up at Sam with a glare before blinking at him, then looking down at himself. “...Hey!” he said much clearer this time, a toothy grin on his face.

Sam couldn’t help but give a warm smile himself. “Welcome back, li’l buddy.”

“Thank you, Sam. It is  _ very _ good t’ be back in my sexy li’l body. Also you could’ve told me I was just wearin’ your clothes the whole time.”

“I, uh-” The dog averted his gaze. “I mean, I was tryin’ t’ keep your body... _ warm _ . That’s all.”

“ _ Suuure _ . Anyway, let’s finally get the heck outta-” Upon making an attempt to get up, Max slumped over, falling right onto the floor like a ragdoll. “...Uh, Sam. Problem.”

Sam ran a hand through his fur, frowning. “Guess you’re not ready t’ walk yet…”

“What do ya’ mean - I am  _ so _ ready to walk! So why am I not  _ doing _ it!?”

“You’ve been dead for nearly four hours, your body’s probably gotta play catch-up first before you can start movin’ properly.”

The lagomorph made an attempt to move again in defiance. He merely flopped once like a fish out of water. “Ugh, this  _ sucks _ .”

“Here, lemme just-” Sam knelt down again and helped sit Max back up, leaning him against the wall again. He slipped Max’s arms through the sleeves that were far too big for him and tied the sleeves together. He then put his head through Max’s arms and had it so that it looked as if Max had his arms wrapped around the side of his neck. “There we go.”

“Oh!” Max said, pleasantly surprised. “Well, this is very nice of you, Sammothy, thank you.”

“No problem, li’l buddy.” He supported Max’s weight with one arm and scooped up the Toybox in the other. “ _ Now _ let’s go get outta-”  _ Thud. _ “...Here?” He slowly turned to face the doors, a look of confusion on his face as he looked over.

Standing outside one of the doors was a dog with glowing purple eyes wearing only underwear slowly banging his hands on the glass of the door.

“What the hell…?” Sam whispered under his breath, not realizing that the fight had suddenly stopped, all attention now turned to the banging against the glass.

“Sam, is- ...is that  _ you? _ ” Max questioned.

“I-I don’t-”

“ _ Multiple _ yous?”

“Multiple? There’s only- oh God.” He could see what Max had been talking about - there  _ were _ more of these dogs showing up.  _ Several _ more. All nearly naked, all with glowing eyes, and all looking  _ exactly _ like Sam.

“What in the name of…” the Freelance Police heard Skun-ka’pe murmur somewhere behind them.

And immediately after that, the dog - clone? - banging on the window  _ slammed _ through it, causing the window to shatter, the shards falling to the floor, and the dog itself -  _ himself?? _ \- hanging in, as if it didn’t even expect itself to be  _ that _ strong. The clones began crowding behind it as well as in front of the other doors, and everyone only stood and stared as the other two doors started being slammed open while the dog that broke the window was now trying to climb in. Sam finally clued in that they were eyeing Max-

And at that realization, he immediately turned and  _ ran _ .

“Damn,” Max said as Sam tore through the halls, “They sure were...something.”

“How can you be so calm about this!?” the dog questioned.

“Well, it’s probably easy ‘cause it’s  _ you _ and not me-”

“Oh, so  _ that’s _ why you were smiling, huh!?”

“What? No!” Pause. “Okay, well-”

“ _ Save it! _ We gotta get outside,  _ now. _ ”

He eventually found the way to the basement, and went through that as quickly as he could without knocking anything over or banging into anything, eventually finding the stairs to the back door that was now unlocked and ramming it open with his free shoulder, stumbling into the alley after doing so.

“Okay,” Sam murmured half to himself and half to Max as he ran in the direction of the car, “Just gotta get to the DeSoto, and-”

He had to practically skid to a halt as he found even  _ more _ of those freaky Sam clones in front of the museum and surrounding the DeSoto. And it didn’t take long for them to notice  _ him _ .

“... _ Sooo _ , no DeSoto,” Max said, brows furrowing in slightly worry. “Now what?”

“Now, we-” Sam gave a startled bark as he found paw-padded hands assaulting him suddenly, a few different pairs attempting to take the Toybox, and a few trying to snatch Max away from him.

“Whoawhoa- Sam!”

It was a very quick, split-second decision between losing the Toybox or losing Max - and Sam sure as hell hadn’t gone through all he did just to have Max taken away  _ again _ . With a growl, he practically  _ shoved _ the Toybox towards the clones (the term  _ Samulacra _ came to mind), making them topple over, and used his now free hand to grip onto Max, managing to pull the lagomorph away from them, though the hat atop Max’s head had unfortunately been removed from his head.

“Sam, your hat-”

“Forget it, don’t care, gotta go,” he quickly said as he proceeded to turn and run the opposite way, the Samulacra still pursuing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are now wrapping up they stole max's brain & entering beyond the alley of the dolls, & hoo boy guys.......its gonna be a Rough ride


	10. Search #3 (1/2): The Source of the Clones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam & Max attempt to find out how the clones came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains a scene that features suicidal ideations as well as mildly ableist comments (e.g. blatant misuse of 'crazy', 'psychopath', etc.) that could potentially be upsetting to some readers. if you wish to skip over it, stop when you reach 'Oh. Wow.' & keep scrolling until you see '"Max, stop!"' otherwise, please be careful while reading.
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter

_‘Stinky,_

_I must speak with you. I have reason to believe that our plan may be hindered in the near future. You-know-who is either beginning to suspect something or is simply about to get rid of me because of my not being human. We should start Phase Two as soon as possible before he has that chance._

_If there is anything else I can think of, I will let you know._

_-S._

_P.S. Just to be sure, your private number is still 212-555-8942, right? Call me when you see this so I can know.’_

Stinky kept reading the note over and over, the rage in her chest never dying down from the first moment she read it when Sam showed it so her, her fingers gripping the paper so tightly it threatened to tear it. God, how could she have been so _blind!?_ She could’ve guessed this two days before she even got this note! Sal hadn’t showed up on either of those days...but dammit, she’d just figured he’d been busy with the other parts involving their…’operation’. She should’ve called the very _moment_ he didn’t show up - she should’ve _known_ better than to make assumptions!

She was angry at herself for making such a rookie mistake - but she was, undoubtedly, _far_ more angry at her grandfather. And speak of the devil - there he was entering with several pieces of timber in hand, glancing over in her direction upon noticing her behind the counter. “Ah, _there_ ye are,” he said, placing the timber down. She didn’t reply - she simply put the note away. “Ah had t’ go all that way on my own just t’ grab some damn wood t’ fix the door with-”

“You…” she said lowly, making him look over with a raised brow. “...Fired... _SAL!?_ ”

“Oh, so _now_ ye’ve realized, eh?” He stood up straight and crossed his arms. “The hell did ye think happened with him?”

“How the hell could you do that!?” she yelled, coming around the counter. “ _Why_ the hell would you do that-”

“What did ye think would happen - that Ah’d just let ‘im stay in my kitchen!? He’s a six-foot-eight cockroach for cryin’ out loud, Ah couldn’t just let him-” The lady had huffed, and turned and went back around the counter. “Oh, yeah, yer turnin’ yer back on me ‘cause ye know Ah’m-” She had ducked behind it, and when she stood up again, she had a whole stack of plates in hand. “Now what the hell do ye think yer doin’ with those-” There was a loud _CRASH_ as she proceeded to throw one at him, making him quickly back up and shoot her a glare. “ _HEY!_ ”

“You goddamn son of a _bitch!_ ” she yelled, followed by another crash as she threw another plate at him, with her briskly moving towards him as he continued backing up. “You think just ‘cause you’re fucking _rich_ that you can just take over _completely!?_ ”

“The fuck are ye talkin’ aboot!?” He was backing out of the diner now, but she was definitely still approaching him.

“I was doing just _FINE-_ ” Another loud crash. “-Without you here! I was running this place just _FINE_ , and now you think you can just come in here-” Another. “And just-!” In the middle of her rant, the Freelance Police had suddenly appeared around the corner, about to turn and enter the diner- “Hey, assholes!” she shouted at them as soon as she saw them, “We’re _closed!_ ”

“Tell _them_ that!” was Max’s retort before Sam took the both of them inside.

“What the hell are they on-” Grandpa Stinky had started, before his gaze turned upon hearing a noise. “Aboot…” Both him and his granddaughter soon found themselves staring down the alley, witnessing the purple, glowy-eyed dog clones quickly approaching. “...Get inside.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” she replied, quickly going into the diner.

As he followed behind her, Sam was holding up one of the pieces of timber, and said, “Mind if we use these? It’s kind of a-”

“ _Yes_ , yes, wha’ever - blasted things were meant for the door anyway, just _move_ , ye mutt.” The dog simply nodded and went to work. “Now where the hell’s my shotgun…”

While the other three were preoccupying themselves, Girl Stinky took a seat at the counter, and began texting her ‘Mr. S.’

. . .

General Skun-ka’pe arrived back at his ship still muttering angrily under his breath, carrying the Tank in his arms with this foreign, yet undoubtedly Psychic brain.

“I still don’t understand what those things _were_ ,” Augustin said as he trailed behind him along with his other fellow crew members. “ _Or_ where they came from.”

“It matters not,” Skun-ka’pe replied - the first time he had spoken since fleeing the museum, leaving that _Papierwaite_ idiot to fend for himself against the indecent dogs that had suddenly flooded the place. “What _matters_ is we have a new brain to power the ship.”

“But no Toybox…” said Everett, sounding regretful. “I should’ve grabbed it when-”

“Hey,” the General interrupted him gently. “Do not blame yourself for anything. There wasn’t anything that could have been done to avoid these current circumstances. Besides-” He opened up the door to the upper deck. “With the use of the ship’s search functions again, the Toybox can be located again. Now leave me - I will call you all when I am ready.”

The space gorillas did as he asked, and he then went to the upper deck. He then got to work on rehooking the Tank to its station, deep in thought as he did so. He was, admittedly, more stuck than he would let on. Currently, he had _no_ toys (he had, unfortunately, lost the Rhinoplasty within the Toybox), no Devil’s Toybox and a brain that he had not even had a chance to become familiar with. It certainly was not a position he could not get out of, but it certainly was not an ideal position-

“ _Uggh…_ ”

The General paused at the groan, eyeing the brain in the tank. He was not surprised that this brain had awoken - the same thing had obviously happened with Gordon and the few other Psychic brains before his, waking up dazed, confused - but rather he was surprised at how young the voice coming from it was. That surprise vanished as soon as it came, however.

“Where...are we…? What is this place? This is not my throne room - and _what_ are you!?”

Skun-ka’pe regarded the brain’s increasingly panicked questions with only a calm, indifferent look, before returning to hooking up the Tank.

“Are you _ignoring_ us!? How _dare_ you! Do you have any idea who we are!?”

“Are there multiple of you?” the General questioned, monotone.

“We beg your pardon?”

“You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘us’. I have encountered species that possess multiple personalities. Are you one of them?”

“Ugh - _truly_ you aren’t that insolent? It is the _royal_ ‘we’, you impertinent ape.”

“Royalty?” he asked, ignoring the _child’s_ insults. “A thousand pardons - I am not of your lands. I am unfamiliar with the monarchy here. Do tell - what is your name?”

“Our name is Sammun-Mak.”

“General Skun-ka’pe. I am afraid you are not in your throne room, you are on my ship. I do apologize for saying this, for I know it will come as a shock, but you have been asleep for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“Evidently. Everything around here seems so...strange.” There was a pause, but the brain seemed to flinch in its tank. “Wh- ...Where i-is-”

“Your body? I apologize, but I am afraid I do not know. It could be long gone by now. You have my deepest sympathies-”

“No...give it _back!_ ” Sammun-Mak angrily demanded. “Return it to us at _once!_ ”

“I am afraid I cannot do that. Now, here is what is going to happen, I have you-”

“How _DARE_ you deny us - our servants-”

“Are gone,” he interrupted, a stern edge in his tone. “As is your kingdom, as is your body, as is the life you once knew. You might have been royalty, once, but now you have no power. You are doing _my_ bidding, not the other way around. I do not care-”

“You- disgusting- _FOUL_ creature! You absolute-”

“I do not _CARE_ if you are willing to do it or not, because you do not have a choice. I am sorry that this is happening to you-”

“I _DEMAND_ you release me, and I _DEMAND_ you return my body, and-”

Skun-ka’pe pushed a button on the station, and the brain gave a loud yell as a surge of electricity went through him, the sound of the ship whirring to life, followed by the electronic voice saying, ‘ENGINES ONLINE’.

“Wh-what did you just-” the brain stammered, sounding out of breath and even a little frightened.

“You are mine now,” Skun-ka’pe said, his voice returning to monotone. “You are mine, and you will do whatever I wish for you to do, and there is nothing you can do about it. The quicker you can accept it, the less painful it will be. If there are any other concerns, speak them now.” The brain said nothing. “Perfect.” With that, the General left the upper deck, fully intending to plan his next move now that he had an actual functioning ship again at last.

. . .

“Where the hell did these things come from again?” Grandpa Stinky inquired as he reloaded his shotgun, having been shooting at the hands that were coming in between the boards.

Sam didnt pause in his hammering to reply this time. “I already told ya’ - I ain’t got a clue.”

“And yet Ah still don’t believe ye.”

“Look - all I know is that the Samulacra-”

“I _still_ prefer Dogglegangers,” Max chimed in, hammering in some boards on the other side of the diner, the oversized sleeves rolled up and his body thankfully having recovered its mobility in the time him and Sam fled.

“- _Weren’t_ there one moment, then _were_ there the next,” Sam finished.

“Well they didn’t bloody _appear_ out o’ thin air!” There was a loud _bang_ as he fired another shot at one of the clones.

Sam decided not to respond, and simply finished up his hammering. “Hopefully that’ll do it,” he muttered, wiping his forehead with one arm and setting the hammer on the table - which happened to be the table that led to Stinky’s secret passage, but there was, unfortunately, a barrel placed directly underneath it, undoubtedly placed by Stinky herself. Which was probably why when Sam had wandered over to sit behind the counter with a sigh, she didn’t even glance over.

“Well,” Max started saying, making the dog quickly look over to find that he’d walked behind the counter as well, sitting beside Sam as he continued, “This is certainly turnin’ out t’ be a fun-filled night.”

“Surprised you’re not whippin’ the luger out and shootin’ with him.” Sam nodded in the direction Grandpa Stinky was.

“As much as the thought of blowin’ your brains out _is_ tempting from time t’ time, this is not one of those times.” Sam merely gave an amused hum in response. “...Especially not after...y’know - y’ came and helped me, an’ all that.”

Sam gave the lagomorph a surprised blink, who met it with a rather sincere expression. “...Of course I did. I always do,” he finally said, then added after a pause, “Not even a cold day in Hell could stop me.”

Max laughed an awkward laugh. “Yeah, I guess. I just…” he trailed off but didn’t finish.

“...Some part of ya’ must’ve known that - given you, uh-” the dog started saying without thinking, then realizing mid-sentence how awkward it seemed to bring it up, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Y’know.”

Max’s ears twitched in confusion, though the confusion quickly cleared. “Oh. That. Yeah. How did y-”

“Those molemen told me,” Sam said quickly. “I didn’t...hear it myself or anything.”

“Ah,” was all he replied with. There was a somewhat uncomfortable silence that followed, both of them looking in different directions. In the quiet of the moment (well, as quiet as it _could_ be, given the situation), both were beginning to recall the happenings prior to Sam finding Max dead, his brain missing, and both felt as if they had something to say in regards to it but were hesitant since the other was not bringing it up first. “...Just outta curiosity,” Max finally spoke, sharing a look with his partner, “How _did_ ya’ find out where I was anyway?”

Sam cracked a bit of a smile. “Get this,” he said, leaning back against the counter, “That popsicle you were eatin’ on the ship? I had to use the _stick_ for that t’ find ya’.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m dead serious. I had t’ take that-” The lagomorph was genuinely laughing, and he had to fight not to start chuckling himself at the pleasant sound that still made him happy to hear. “I had t’ take that, and use the scanner I found-”

“Oh my God, I can’t-”

“-To find you in the museum.”

“That,” Max said, trying to ease up his laughter enough to speak coherently, “Is _hilarious_.”

“I had a feeling you’d appreciate hearin’ that li’l tidbit of irony.”

“I did! And-” He flapped his hands to show off the way the sleeves just slipped past his hands. “I also appreciate _this_ , and I hope you know you ain’t gettin’ it back, like, ever.”

“Eh, I had a feeling you’d wanna steal it ya’ li’l scamp.”

“You know me too well. Still a shame I lost the hat, though.” The last statement, though still lighthearted in tone, sounded pretty genuine.

Sam merely gave a shrug, and said, “It’s whatever. I can get a new one whenever.” He glanced over on the opposite side of him. “Like right now!”

Max tilted his head as he watched the dog lean over, reaching for something - then absolutely _lost_ it as he watched him place a pot right on his head.

“See?” Sam said, a few small laughs escaping him. “New hat!”

“Okay, p-” _Snrrk_. “Okay, pothead.”

“Wow, stole my joke-”

“What are you two laughing so hard about over there?” came Girl Stinky’s voice, making their laughter come to an abrupt halt. Sam decided to slowly peer over the countertop so that only the pot on his head and his eyes were visible. She looked back at him with a look of disgust, and simply said, “Sorry I asked.”

Max snickered at the response as Sam slid back down behind the counter with a smile, both of them sighing. “...We should probably start lookin’ into this Dogglegangers thing, huh.”

“Samulacra. And hey, I’m good t’ go whenever. How’s your head?”

“It’s still a li’l tight in here,” he admitted, rubbing at his temples with the sleeves still over his hands. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, if ya’ say so. Just don’t go pushin’ yourself, okay?”

“Gimme a li’l more credit, Sam - I’m not _that_ careless.”

“Fair enough. Anyway - first thing on the list of things we gotta do is find a safe way outta here.”

“Secret passage ain’t an option, I’m guessin’?”

“She blocked it. And I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate me waltzin’ over and movin’ it.”

“...’She wouldn’t appreciate-’ I’m talkin’ to the same guy that just _yoinked_ a jar of Broth right off an old man’s counter, right? You are that same guy?”

“I am-”

“So what’s makin’ ya’ hesitate now? Don’t tell me ya’ got some dumb policy-”

“Not a dumb ‘policy’, more like…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly again. “More like a dumb...deal.”

Max stared at him blankly. “...What do you mean.”

“ _IIII_ might’ve made a deal with her sayin’ I wouldn’t dig into whatever she’s got goin’ on in exchange for some info that I now see I could’ve easily figured out myself, but anyway, point is I’m sure exposing her secret passage while her grandpa’s right there counts, unfortunately, so…”

Max continued to stare at him blankly. “...Sam?”

“Yeah, Max, my bestest friend?”

“You’re a fool.”

“That’s fair.”

The lagomorph gave a small groan, burying his face in his sleeve-covered hands. “Can’t we just- get the old Stinky outta here? Hell, do we even need t’ do that - the guy’s clearly distracted with shootin’ your head off!”

“Either way would work, but let’s be honest with ourselves - that secret passage doesn’t go anywhere else but the sewer.”

“Mmm, true.” He tapped a foot rapidly against the hardwood floor, thinking hard. “...Screw it - gimme my toys, we’re figurin’ this out the simultaneously easy and hard way.” Sam decided to oblige, clearing his pockets of the toys he’d picked up and handing them over. While Max decided to stuff the can and playing card into the pockets on the inside of the jacket, he took the viewfinder and put it to his eyes.

_It’s Sam simply pressing down a button on the nearby toaster._

“What the hell?” Max said with a raised brow after he removed the viewfinder. “Why’re ya’ usin’ a toaster? You don’t even _like_ toast.”

“What do ya’ mean? Sure I like toast!”

“No, no - you like _warmed_ bread. That’s what you like.”

“It is not- seriously? You’re gonna attack how I eat toast right now?”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’, this vision doesn’t seem very realistic.”

“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, getting to his feet. He scanned the back counter before finding the toaster. “Which one was it?” he asked, a finger raised.

Max got up and stood next to him. “Furthest on the right.”

Without hesitation, Sam pushed it down. At first it seemed like nothing was happening - and then both turned around upon hearing a whirring sound coming from the empty jukebox, watching as the entire platform beneath it slid away to reveal-

“A _back-up_ passage?” Sam said, surprised. He glanced over at Girl Stinky, who was looking at the newly opened tunnel with wide eyes, before looking over at him and glaring. He merely gave an innocent shrug and said, “Just tried t’ make some toast.” She rolled her eyes and returned to her phone.

“I think your deal just started sparking like fresh tinder,” Max commented.

“Well, I don’t think it’s gone up in flames quite y-”

“What in the name of Betty Crocker’s knicker have ye been doin’ to my diner!?” came the yell of the old man, who’d _also_ turned around at the sound.

Max looked at Sam and mimicked the sound of flames, making a hand gesture that was obscured by the coat’s sleeves. Sam merely sighed and muttered, “Great. This is gonna bite me later.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” was Stinky’s reply, still on her phone.

“Ah’ve had just aboot all Ah can _stand_ ya’ indolent-”

“‘Indolent!?’”

“Let’s get out of here before this gets ugly,” Sam said.

“Aww, and here I was ready to watch the showdown-”

“Who do you think keeps this diner afloat, old man!?” shouted Stinky.

“Well, I’m _not_. Let’s go.” Grabbing Max by the coat collar, he pulled him towards the tunnel.

“Coward,” Max said, before promptly being pushed by the dog into the tunnel with a _‘Wheee!’_. Sam then casually lowered himself in after him.

. . .

“I dunno how you could wanna miss out on Stinkys fighting,” Max continued to joke as they walked through the tunnel. “Watching them argue’s like dinner theatre.”

“Guess I’ve just witnessed enough animosity caused by me for one night.”

Judging by the casual tone, Sam hadn’t at _all_ been referring to their own fight, but Max’s ears twitched back slightly. “Well, to be _fair_ ,” he said, still keeping his lighthearted tone, “Judging by the _yelling_ and the _plate throwing_ , I’d say it wasn’t caused by you.”

“That’s true.”

“And Pepto Bismol guy and Gorilla Grodd - I can safely confirm that they were a doomed couple from the start.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

“And…” Sam’s ear flicked in his direction, obviously noticing the shift in the lagomorph’s tone, though he didn’t look at him. Max hesitated - he was never good at talking seriously about his feelings _civilly_. He was _much_ better at expressing his feelings through...well, _yelling_ and _breaking things_ ~~and trying to **ruin** himself~~, but look at where _that_ had gotten him. But he felt like he almost sort of... _owed_ it to Sam to say something. The guy had gone out of his way to help him even though he had a valid reason not to... “...Sam?”

“Mhm?”

“I- ...I feel like I, uh- ...I _fffeel_ like I should- y’know, about earli-”

“Great matriomony of te- matri- t-” The dog’s stammers ended with him blowing a raspberry with an annoyed look.

“Good _lord_ ,” Max said, half startled and half trying not to laugh. “You _good_ , Sam??”

“Sorry, I was so shocked that I ended up flubbin’ it.”

“Don’t say- _oh_ …”

The two of them had just walked into what seemed like a lab not too unlike Mama Bosco’s, though the actual lab part was cut short by a barrier, and beyond it stood a large, cavernous area, the walls _completely_ covered in what appeared to be chambers. Floating mid-air in it all was some sort of platform with monitors and lights attached to it - the latter of which seemed to be scanning around in an indeterminate pattern.

“...So,” Sam finally said, blinking and shaking his head before looking back at his partner. “What were you about t’ say?”

“...Y’know what, I think _this_ is a li’l more important right now.”

“Fair enough.” The two both slowly walked through the lab, all the way to the barrier that blocked the immediate hundred foot drop below. “...I think we found the source of the Samulacra.”

“Dogglegangers.”

“Whatever. The only thing I’m wonderin’ is why Stinky’s got all o’ this down-” He was interrupted by a whir of a machine behind him, followed by an electronic voice stating, ‘CLONE COMPLETE’. While Sam stared warily at it, though, Max seemed more curious, tilting his head and then deciding to approach it. “Wait, Max-”

The lagomorph ignored it, going right up to the machine and looking it over before jumping back as the door decided to open with a hiss. Out stepped one of those Sam clones (with the underwear on, thank God). The very first thing Sam noticed from where he stood, watching carefully to make sure the clone wasn’t going to do anything to Max, was that this clone didn’t have the glowing eyes all the other ones had. Or quite as zombie-like for that matter - in fact, the dog clone seemed alert yet confused, glancing at his surroundings before his eyes settled on the lagomorph in front of him.

“Well, _hello_ ,” Max decided to greet. The dog clone immediately tilted his head, then bent over to sniff him, which made him freeze, ears standing perfectly straight. And then the clone started licking to the top of his head. “Oh!” he said, pleasantly surprised, a wide smile appearing on his expression. “That’s pretty nice.”

Sam huffed and crossed his arms. “‘Pretty nice’,” he muttered.

“Hey, don’t be jealous, Sam,” he teased. “He’s just-” He cut himself off as the clone suddenly retracted with a sharp whine, clutching at his face. “Whoa,” he said, suddenly alarmed. “Whoa, what’s-” The whining quickly stopped, and the dog clone stopped clutching his face, though his hands sort of... _fell_ as if the muscles in them just simply gave out. And surely enough, as soon as the hands fell, it revealed those same bright, glowing eyes every other single clone had. “Uh oh.”

Sam hadn’t even hesitated to pull out his revolver. The only reason he didn’t shoot right away was because the idea of shooting _himself_ wasn’t an idea that sat right with him - but that didn’t mean he _wouldn’t_ if he had to. Thankfully, though, the clone didn’t seem interested in Max, and it simply turned and started shambling away, presumably to go join its brethren. Sam couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief as he put the gun away.

“Jeez,” Max said, “I really thought you were gonna shoot for a sec there.”

“I didn’t _really_ want to.”

“Can’t relate - if it were me, I wouldn’t have hesitated.”

“Are we talking if it was that same exact clone, or if it was a clone of you?”

“Y’know, I think the _more_ important thing here is the fact that we’ve just learned that these Sam clones act like damn adorable puppies-” Sam grunted, unimpressed. “-And _then_ go all weird with their weird blue eyes.” (Actually purple, but again - colourblind).

“That seems t’ be the case, yeah. That means there the person behind the actual cloning and the person doin’ the brainwashing could be two separate people, though.”

“That’s fun,” Max said sarcastically.

The dog took another glance around the lab before frowning. “...You don’t think Mama Bosco could have anything t’ do with it, do ya’?”

“Her? _Nooo_. I know she’s got the mad scientist vibe, but I feel like she’d at least be nice enough to say ‘hey, Sam, I’m gonna clone a hundred or so versions of you that’re butt-naked. Just tellin’ ya’ so you won’t be alarmed’.”

“That _is_ true, but how could this exist and her _not_ at least know about it? I mean, can’t be stolen ‘cause she would’ve definitely noticed, if she made it herself, I doubt this would all be happening without her knowledge-”

“With your line of thinking, almost sounds like you want it t’ be her.” It wasn’t an accusation more so than it was him pointing it out.

“I _don’t_ want it to be her,” Sam said with a sigh. “If anything, I’d love for her to have nothin’ t’ do with this, but I just don’t think that’s realistic.”

“Don’t be- hey, come check this out!” Max had started wandering around mid-conversation, and eventually had stopped with his ears perked upon noticing something.

“What?” Sam walked over to him, and surely enough saw the other tunnels that hadn’t been located all that far from the one they came in from. “How did we miss these?”

“Not sure, don’t care - we should look through ‘em!”

“Can’t think of a reason not to. You lead the way.”

The lagomorph hummed, putting a hand on his chin. “Eenie, meenie, miney...this one!” He walked forward, and Sam followed behind him.

. . .

“What the hell is going on with the lights there?” Max questioned, having finally spotted a flickering light up ahead after a few minutes of walking.

“Your guess is as good as mine, li’l buddy.”

“Satanic ritual.”

The two of them eventually reached the end of this tunnel, which required them to climb up to poke their heads out of a hole - which revealed that the tunnel led to Mama Bosco’s actual lab, where Agent Superball was standing at a table with a small gong, several objects floating around the room.

“Oh my God,” Max said, “I was _kidding_.”

Upon hearing them, Superball glanced over, seeming startled (though still remaining stone cold expression-wise) before turning and banging the gong. As the objects safely returned to their original spots, Sam and Max climbed out of the tunnel. “Good evening, sirs,” the agent greeted.

“Evenin’, Superball,” Sam greeted in return, deciding to tilt the pot on his head the same way he would typically tip his hat. “It’s been a while.”

“What sorta funky otherworldly rites are ya’ doin’ in here?” Max asked with a raised brow.

“I was attempting to perform a séance,” Superball clarified. “I arrived here after to investigate illegal cloning activity-”

“Uh oh,” Max murmured, looking at Sam.

“-Only to find Doctor Mama Bosco missing. I’ve been trying to contact her, but I’m more familiar with science than the paranormal.”

“Is there much of a difference at this point?” Sam asked.

“Immensely, actually. Afterlife affairs are especially unpredictable.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding.

“ _Wellll_ ,” Max said slowly, a thoughtful expression on his features. “Would... _another_ supernatural force help t’ reach out to ‘er?”

“More likely than not,” the agent said with a nod, “Yes. Though, as for what the repercussions of that could be, I’m not certain.”

“Whoa, hang on,” Sam said, furrowing his brows a bit. “What sorta ‘repercussions’ are we talkin’ about here - hypothetically, of course.”

“As I said, sir - these things are unpredictable. There are thousands of hundreds hypothetical varying factors, but to put it simply - it could put either Mama Bosco or the other supernatural individual in danger.”

“In danger of _what?_ ”

“Let’s just say that oblivion would be the best case scenario should something go wrong.”

“Those are some pretty damn high stakes for a séance.”

“My third favourite type of stakes!” Max stated with a smile. “How do we start?”

“Just come to the table. I’ll bang the gong once you’re ready, and we can begin.”

“Alrighty!” the lagomorph said, about to continue forward before feeling Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“...Give us a minute, Superball,” Sam said.

“Take your time, sirs.” The agent turned back to the table.

Max couldn’t help giving an annoyed groan as he turned to face Sam. “Sam, if you’re about t’ try and stop me-”

“I’m not, ‘cause I know I can’t anyway, but I feel like this warrants talkin’ for a second. I mean, this is _crazy-_ ”

“Perfect! Means I’m suited for the task.”

“He just said oblivion was the _best_ case scenario-”

“Y’know, I kinda agree with him.”

“You could-”

“Sam, _listen_ to me.” The dog finally stopped his anxious rambling. “I know. It’s dangerous. It’s got a high chance of killin’ me or worse. What’s new? It’s still gotta be done.”

“I know, I just- after what just happened-” Max’s ears perked slightly at that statement. “...Just be careful, alright?”

The lagomorph got where this seemingly out of the blue worry was coming from now - and he supposed he couldn’t have really blamed Sam for feeling on edge after literally lugging Max’s body with him. That couldn’t have been any less traumatizing than Max himself getting freaking- _lobotomized_. So, he simply gave a nod, and said, “I’ll try.”

Sam didn’t seem any more reassured, but huffed a sigh nonetheless and nodded wordlessly before releasing Max’s shoulder. With only a slight hesitation, the lagomorph proceeded to go over to the table, a light bounce in his step, with Sam slowly following behind him, eventually positioning himself across from Max, removing the silly pot from his head and placing it aside.

“Are you ready to begin, sirs?” Superball asked.

Max shared a glance with the dog, who, after a moment, looked over at Superball and nodded. “We’re ready.”

With that, the agent banged the gong on the table. The lagomorph eyed at the objects on the table started levitating again, slowly circling them, but soon allowed his gaze to fall on the table’s surface before shutting his eyes, lightly drumming his fingers on the table. Okay - he could do this. He could do this! _Ummm_ ...all he had to do...was...remember the astral projector! Yeah! That was somehow relevant to this, right? Remember how it pulled him out of his body and placed him elsewhere, how it felt like he’d been carefully removed and carried off. How his spirit was just...light as a freakin’ feather- _okay_ this was starting to get cheesy and clearly not worki-

Oh. _Wow_.

When he’d opened his eyes - well...on a spiritual level, he supposed - everything was...black. Pitch black. He literally could not see _anything_ . Wait, was this what the ‘oblivion’ Superball was talking about was? Because if so, _damn_ this was friggin’ boring-

**Horrible.**

He jolted at what felt like a thought that was forcefully injected into his- no, what felt like it was forcefully _pulled_ **_out_ ** of his mind. It startled and confused him, though, and though he knew where it came from, he wasn’t sure _why_ it-

**Awful.**

**Crazy.**

Oh God, this wasn’t oblivion.

**Violent.**

**Psychopath.**

**Insane.**

This was a whole different, undiscovered layer of Hell.

_Strongly_ disliking this sudden onslaught of negative thoughts and feeling _very_ much attacked right now, Max started trying to reach for- something, anything, whatever the hell could lift him up, to get him out of this, ~~he needed to get out of this~~ \- And he could feel something semi-solid above him, and as soon as he felt it, he ~~desperately~~ started trying to grab it, but it was hard to get a grip on it, ~~it was always so fucking hard to get a grip~~ . But once he did, he started pulling himself _up_ as hard as he could-

**You’re so terrible.**

**No one cares about you.**

**He doesn’t care about you.**

He managed to pull himself through, his surroundings no longer pitch black but still very much dark, but at least lighter than it had been, ~~but still so very dark~~ . He attempted to push himself up, but this- this _stuff_ , ~~these _thoughts_ ~~ were holding him down, and there was this tightness around his neck, and no matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t free himself-

**Just die already.**

_WHY COULDN’T HE JUST_ ~~_FUCKING_ ~~ _FREE HIMSELF-_

“Max, stop!”

The sound of the woman’s voice surprised Max so much he indeed stopped struggling, his eyes wide as he looked up to see Mama Bosco a ways above him.

“Don’t break that,” she told him, “That’s your only connection to the physical realm!”

“What-” God, his voice sounded so hoarse, yet he continued, “What’re you- how’d you get here?”

“I’m not entirely sure - I just started being pulled here, but thank God for it. Here, reach out your hand.”

It was beginning to get harder to hold himself up, but he did as she said and extended an arm as far as he could above his head. Eventually, she was able to reach down and grab it.

“Now let go,” she instructed.

And so he did, the both of them shooting straight back down into the pitch black.

And upon opening his eyes, he involuntarily released a strong pulse of psychic which sent both Sam and Superball flying backwards onto the floor and shaking the whole lab for a split second, the levitating objects dropping with loud _clinks_ , and then collapsed forward, using the table to support himself. In the center of the table, Mama Bosco materialized, giving a deep, relieved sigh. “Good lord,” she said, “I thought I’d never be-” She paused with wide eyes upon looking at Max.

Sam groaned as he painfully got up to his feet, attempting to blink the blurriness out of his eyes and leaning against the table himself. He looked across the table where Max had been, and- holy shit, what Max’s head on _fire!?_ He shook his head, blinking hard - and then the flames he thought he’d seen were gone. Jesus, he must’ve hit his head hard…

“Doctor Mama Bosco,” Superball said after getting back on his own feet, readjusting his jacket by the lapels. “You’re back. Thank goodness.”

Mama Bosco seemed to have to blink and shake her head for a second before replying, “Thank goodness indeed. I thought I was a goner for sure.”

“What happened?” Sam asked, though he was still glancing at Max, uncertain if what he’d seen was real or not. In any case, the lagomorph was keeping his head down, his ears drooping, looking completely and utterly spent.

“I don’t know!” Mama Bosco replied. “My spirit just started- _pinballing_ through all these nightmarish dimensions! If your séance hadn’t anchored me down, I might _never_ have found my way home!”

“Oh dear,” Superball stated. “That sounds as if the boundaries between realities are decaying.”

“That may very well be the case, Agent.”

“I’d best alert my superiors.” He backed away from the table, and looked at Sam, said, “Best of luck to you,” then gave Max a lingering look that was not returned before turning and leaving.

Only after he’d left had Max raised his head again, a barely audible sigh escaping him. Mama Bosco floated down so that they were face to face, crossing her arms - more _hugging_ herself, actually - with a concerned expression. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

Max stared at her blankly, before his eyes slightly wandered over to Sam. He could see on the dog’s face that he was just as concerned, and was silently asking the exact same question. He ended up looking back at her and giving that good ol’ sharp-toothed grin of his, and said, “Never better! That was seriously _awesome_ -” He looked back at Sam and gestured to him. “Sucks that you weren’t there - ya’ really missed out!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the scientist muttered under her breath, but straightened herself up and seemed to drop it for now. “Anyway-” She turned to Sam, and asked, “What were you two doing here, anyway?”

Sam hesitated, still eyeing Max with a concerned look, but when he clearly wasn’t getting any other sort of reaction, he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as he turned his attention to her. “To make a long story short - there’s a bunch of _me_ clones out there, and we found a lab connected t’ this one that looks exactly like yours full o’ clonin’ equipment. Now, I’m not throwin’ accusations, but…”

“I understand completely,” she responded. “And as much as I’m ashamed to say it, I will say that I indeed am responsible for the cloning machines - but not for the clones out there. If that makes sense.”

“It does, yeah. What’s your story?”

“I made only one cloning tank a few months back - for personal reasons. As nice as being a ghost is, I’d much rather have my body back.”

“Fair enough. Why haven’t ya’ used it yet? Out of curiosity.”

“Well, as a _ghost_ , I still needed to make something that could properly transfer me _to_ the body. Otherwise I could just float right through it without attaching to it, or be unable to control it while I’m inside.”

“Makes sense. Continue.”

“Well, someone must’ve caught word that I had it, because one day, I received an anonymous donation of an incredibly large amount of money in exchange for a few hundred of them. It was shady, I know - but I _also_ know that the moment I’m alive, plenty of money-grabbing folks will be ready to pile on the overdue bills and debts, and- you get the idea.”

“Mhm.”

“So I took the money, I made the tanks, the extra lab - but that’s it. I haven’t been down there since. So as far as this army of clones goes, I know nothing about it.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about the donor, or was this done only through e-mail, or…”

“It was over the phone. They had a weird, creepy, high-pitched voice. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

“Well, anything to narrow down the suspects. Since we’ve established they’re _your_ clones, however, is there any way to shut ‘em down?”

“There’s a manual override to it, but only my handprint works for it. And I know now is the _worst_ time to take my time, but if you want me to shut those machines down, you’re going to have to give me a little extra time to make sure nothing goes wrong when I try to place myself in this new body.”

“That’s fine. Max and I have other places t’ look anyway. Just give us a call when you’re done - we’ll help ya’ get ya’ up and runnin’ on solid legs again.”

“Thanks, Sam.” She glanced over at the lagomorph, whose smile had vanished and now seemed to be zoning out, then looked back at him and murmured, “Look out for him, would you?”

“...Of course.” Mama Bosco gave a small nod, then proceeded to float elsewhere in her lab. Sam turned his attention from her to Max, and eyed him for a moment before slowly walking over to him. “...Hey,” he said quietly. The lagomorph blinked and looked up at him, and Sam couldn’t help but notice how... _glazed_ those eyes look. He’d seen that look before - he _knew_ he had - but he never could quite figure out what triggered it. Only that it wasn’t a good sign. “Are you, uh...are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine!” Max replied at once, smiling again which certainly didn’t make Sam feel reassured.

“You sure? ‘Cause the reaction ya’ had when ya’ came back…I mean, you really blew Superball and I back.”

“Eh, I think that was just ‘cause of how much energy it took just t’ even enter the place Mama Bosco was in.”

“And what place was that, exactly?”

“Oh, y’know - otherworldly.”

Sam frowned. “Max.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me?”

~~**YES** . ~~ “Pfft. No. ‘Course not. When have I _ever_ not told ya’ anything?” Sam’s frown deepened, and Max realized quickly that that was the completely _wrong_ thing to say. In an attempt to recover from that mistake, he started glancing around, then noticed the pot still sitting on the table, looked at Sam’s bare head, then reached over and grabbed the pot by the handle, then turned to Sam with it in hand. He gestured for the dog to kneel down, and though Sam hesitated, he decided to oblige. And once he was within Max’s reach, Max placed the pot back on his head. “I had to,” the lagomorph said at last, “I mean, the pot is a _very_ good look.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, though it was more of a mumble.

“So, what’s the deal? I wasn’t listening to you two talk.”

“She knows about the cloning machines, she doesn’t know who’s making the clones, and she can override ‘em but she needs a body for it and she needs time t’ be able t’ make that body. I told her we gotta head off anyway and she can call us when she’s done.”

“Oh, goodie! So our next destination is wherever the heck that other tunnel goes off to, then?”

“It sure is.”

“Perfect! Let’s go!”

The lagomorph started walking forward, and Sam, after a pause, started following behind him, still frowning deeply. After they both re-entered the hole they’d come in from and were back in the dim tunnel, Sam quietly said, “Hey, uh...Max?”

“ _Yyyes_ , Sam?”

“You’d-” He faltered for a moment, uncertain if he should ask, but continued anyway. “You’d tell me if somethin’ was seriously wrong, right?”

“...Yeah! ‘F course I would.”

Sam still didn’t feel reassured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit; so yea it occurred to me way too late this is search 3 not 4 lmao whoops


	11. The Truths We Tell, The Lies We Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Max give Papierwaite a surprise visit. Meanwhile, Flint checks back in on the diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyo, the 'another way' au now has a blog on tumblr!!! go check it out; https://samandmaxanotherway.tumblr.com/

Sam was pulling himself up through the end of the other tunnel, Max practically climbing up him and clinging onto his shoulder as he did so. The area was dark, and at first neither of them could tell where they were. As soon as Sam climbed out with Max still attached to him, though, he noticed the door with the glass window that read ‘A. PAPIERWAITE’ with ‘Curator’ right underneath.

“Not quite the place I was expecting, but at least it’s not unfamiliar,” Sam said, before glancing at the lagomorph. “Do you see anyone in there?”

“ _ Nnnope _ . Can’t say I do.” With that, Max hopped off.

Sam was about to go over and test the handle, but then noticed the keypad right next to it. “What the hell? Who makes a perfectly normal wooden door keypad-locked? And who uses  _ hieroglyphics _ instead of numbers?”

“Obviously someone who’s a bit of an ancient Egyptian nerd.”

“What, like you?”

“ _ Listen _ .”

Sam merely gave an amused smile before glancing around the area. There was another door that might’ve led to a larger area, but it was locked, and then there was a trash can. “You go through it,” the dog told Max.

“Wow, you’re gonna just tell me to dig through trash?”

“First off, don’t act like you care  _ that _ much. Second, I shoved my hand in Demon Broth  _ twice _ . And whatever the hell was in that urn. I’ve filled my quota of putting my hand in unsanitary stuff.”

“Ugh, alright, fine, ya’ baby.” Max proceeded to knock off the lid akin to a cat knocking off a glass before leaning in head first. He kept muttering under his breath as he tossed out various pieces of useless trash before saying, “Hey, Sam?” with his voice slightly reverberating thanks to the can.

“Yeah, li’l buddy?”

“‘Sal’ was that cockroach guy we bumped into, right?”

The dog’s ears perked at the name. “Yeah, he was. Why, did ya’ find somethin’?”

Max finally got his head out of the trash, and was holding up a piece of paper. “A resignation letter from him, apparently..”

“Resignation? Aw, man...lemme see it.” Max handed him the letter (with oddly familiar handwriting), and he started reading it over.

_ ‘Monsieur Papierwaite, _

_ I do apologize for giving you this letter on such short notice, but I am afraid after the events of tonight, I cannot continue working here. I understand this may have been an isolated incident but I would prefer not to take that chance. _

_ I am not going to demand that compensation from you. I do not wish to leave abruptly then demand more money. However, should you decide to still provide it, please feel free to call either my cell or you can contact me at this number anywhere between 8pm and 4am: 212-266-3509. _

_ Thank you for your time, _

_ Sal.’ _

“Jeez, Sam,” Max said. “Ya’ look stressed.”

The dog indeed was running a hand through his fur and sighed at the statement. “This is my fault. He said he needed this job, and I told ‘im he wouldn’t lose it.”

“Technically, he didn’t lose it.”

“I know, but I still brought the trouble that led to him choosin’ t’ leave.” He sighed again through his nose. “...I should give him a call. Maybe...offer him a job. I dunno. He’s a nice enough guy…”

Max’s ears perked at the mention of offering the cockroach a job, before furrowing his brows slightly. “...What  _ are _ your plans?” Sam looked at him, surprised. “After this, I mean.”

“...I…” The dog glanced away, frowning. “It’s only been a  _ day _ , Max…”

“I know! I just- y’know, I’m just asking. It’s-” he spoke more in a murmur when he said this, “It’s fine if ya’ don’t know.”

“Implying that  _ you _ have plans?” Sam asked, trying not to sound as hurt by that thought as he felt and only barely succeeding.

Max blinked. “... _ Weeelll _ ,” he said, sounding awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll admit I  _ was _ just plannin’ on stayin’ in the White House, workin’ as President full-time-” He said this part jokingly, “Run this country into the ground more than it already is.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Sam hadn’t even said it with any sort of bitterness, but at this point Max couldn’t help feel a slight sting with that statement. “Yeah, I was...angry,” he admitted. “But I, uh - I’ve been a li’l more conflicted about it now, ‘cause- I mean- like ya’ said, it’s only been a day, but the thing is- well…” He gave a slight smile. “If ya’ keep makin’ this seem  _ fun _ again, I might have t’ do some thinking.”

The dog couldn’t help but give a breathy laugh, completely not expecting Max to say that. “You think  _ this _ has been fun?”

“Honestly? Yeah. The most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Get outta here.”

“I’m serious. You certainly have been keepin’ this one from bein’ not  _ completely _ boring, what with ya’ actually  _ ‘biting’ _ rather than  _ ‘barking’ _ -” He playfully nudged Sam’s leg. “If ya’ get what I’m sayin’.” The dog only shook his head again with an amused smile. “Sorta reminds me of how ya’ were back when we started this whole gig.”

“Does it now.”

“Yeah! Back when you were so excited, and ya’ were eager t’ get things done, and ya’ weren’t afraid to just grab the situation by the nuts, and- and…I dunno. Ya’ just seemed like ya’ had more  _ fun _ , I guess.”

Sam’s smile slowly faded at that last statement. “What do ya’ mean? I never said I was havin’ any less fun.”

“When you’re doin’ things as by the book as possible and tryin’ t’ be logical and reasonable with everything and everyone all the time, it doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun.”

“It’s not that I’m not havin’ fun, I’m just...tryin’ t’ be professional.”

“I feel like I’d believe that if y’ actually shut it off when we were home and  _ didn’t  _ end up actin’ like that  _ all _ the time.” Sam opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. “Honestly, it’s like ya’ woke up a completely different person. What happened?”

Sam hesitated, seeming at a bit of a loss for words at this inquiry. It felt like this fairly pure conversation had somehow once again circled back to negative territory. “...I-”

The office door behind them suddenly and both of them practically yelled in surprise as they turned to find a very confused and annoyed Papierwaite poking his head out of the open doorway. His gaze went from the dog with the pot on his head and the lagomorph wearing the oversized jacket, to the hole that was in the corner, to the littered trash that was still on the floor near the still opened garbage can, then back at the two other individuals in the room. “...Can I  _ help _ you?” he asked, completely baffled and blinking.

The duo blinked back, before Sam decided to put on a smile. “Possibly!” he said awfully cheerfully as he folded up the resignation letter and put it in his back pocket, “But I will say, we haven’t properly met yet.” Sam extended a hand, and said, “Sam Barkley, Freelance Police-”

“I  _ know _ who you are,” the man interrupted, sounding annoyed, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“Well, that’s perfect, ‘cause I also know who  _ you _ are, and it’d be  _ super _ weird if only one of us knew the other.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, sounding less impressed with each response. “And what are you doing here with this giant hole and the trash all over the floor?”

“Oh- that?” Sam pointed to the tunnel entrance. “We had nothing t’ do with that.” Pause - followed by gesturing to the open trash can. “We  _ did _ have somethin’ t’ do with that, yeah.” Papierwaite merely huffed, and was about to close his door- “Nonono, wait-!” Sam put his foot in the way before the man could fully close it. “Mr. Papierwaite-”

“ _ Monsieur _ ,” he corrected, “And get your foot out of my door-”

“Monsieur Papierwaite,” Sam corrected himself. “I feel that we got off on a bad start. I mean, none of us are  _ actually _ against each other here, I don’t feel. We’re just two parties that happened t’ cross paths after Skunkape crashed into our lives. Speakin’ of which, is there anything you could tell me about your encounter with him? Maybe, how you two happened to come across each other, or why you allowed him to make that strange machine in the middle of your museum?”

“My business with Skun-ka’pe is at an end, therefore it no longer matters nor is it relevant.”

“Well,” Max spoke up, “Bein’ in possession of a couple o’ brains and havin’ a crazy amount o’ damage done might say otherwise.”

“I do not have to tell you anything about this. I have not committed any crime-”

“Definitely wouldn’t say that.”

“-Therefore there is no reason to interrogate me. You should interrogate that gorilla if you want answers so badly.”

Sam said, “If we knew where he was, maybe we would-”

“I do not know where he went. He fled shortly after you did, and I had to lock myself in here for my safety. Now if all you have come here for is to dig through my trash and ask me senseless questions-”

“I’m not sure if I’d count askin’ your involvement of a convicted felon ‘senseless’-”

“-Then you have wasted your  _ time _ and  _ mine _ . I have a lot on my plate, and I would like to not be bothered. Good night.”

“Hey, c’mon-” Sam had removed his foot by this time, and the man shut his door. The dog huffed lightly, and murmured, “Rude.”

“Y’ gonna just let ‘im do that to ya’, Sam?” Max asked.

“He knows somethin’, that’s for darn sure. And we’re not leavin’ ‘til we know what it is.” He looked at Max and added, “Not ‘cause I find it important, but how else are we supposed t’ kill time otherwise?”

“Want me t’ intrude on his thoughts and get the passcode so we can do an old-fashioned bust-in?”

“No need!” With that, Sam swiftly removed the pot from his head and slammed it so hard against the keypad that some of the keys fell and the pot dented.

“Nice,” was all Max said.

“Thanks.” Sam proceeded to hold up the pot as if he was prepared to use it as a weapon, and Max, following his lead, shook his hands free of the massive sleeves and made a finger gun and held it up with his other hand. “Wanna do the yellin’, li’l buddy?”

“Do I ever!” Sam gave a nod, then opened the door slightly before the lagomorph decided to simply kick the door open with his big ol’ foot, taking the lead as he hopped right into Papierwaite’s office. “ _ FREEZE, SHITHEAD, PUT YOUR H- _ ”

“NO!” the man yelled, attempting to shield the strange, tentacle-y blue creature coming from his chest and failing. “Don’t look at me- this was not made for human eyes-!”

The duo could only stare in shock, then confusion. “...Not at all what I was expectin’ t’ find,” Sam commented.

Papierwaite’s panicked breathing promptly slowed upon realizing their puzzled but otherwise casual reaction, a confused expression appearing on his own features as he slowly lowered his arms back onto the arms of his chair. “...Odd,” said the creature attached to the man’s chest. “Most humans are driven incurably insane by the mere  _ glimpse _ of my unspeakable visage.”

“To be fair,” Max replied, “We see more  _ unspeakable visages _ looking up our own names out of morbid curiosity.”

“And to be fair,” Sam decided to add, “We’re not human.”

“Both valid points,” the creature concurred.

“Anyway, who are you?”

“More importantly,  _ what _ are you?” the lagomorph also asked.

“I am known by many names,” the creature said. “Among them -  **Yog-Soggoth** \- Elder  **FIEND** of the  **Dark Dimension** !”

“Cool bolding effect of your words there, pal.”

“Wait a second, I recognize your voice,” Sam spoke up with a slight furrow in his brow, not particularly caring what he was about to give away. “You knocked the damn wind outta me. Uh-  _ ‘Cod Yed’ _ , wasn’t it?”

“ _ Qod Yed _ ,” Yog-Soggoth corrected, the words sounding far more gravelly when he said it. “But yes, I do recall. I will admit I may have been a touch forceful, but understand that I was only protecting my host’s thoughts.”

“My thoughts?” Papierwaite narrowed his eyes at the Freelance Police. “You were reading my  _ thoughts? _ ”

“Duh,” Max said, raising a brow. “How else would we have found out about the other brain or the-”

Sam decided to interrupt before Max gave away the thing about the tapestry. “If you knew about it, though, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Yog-Soggoth said, “As  _ eager _ as I was to have the Toybox in my possession, it was not my idea to  _ blindly _ summon it without thinking of the consequences,  _ Anton _ .”

“Don’t  _ yell _ at me,” Papierwaite shot back, “How was I supposed to know those  _ apes _ were going to come with it!?”

“I  _ told _ you that the only way the Toybox would have been  _ exposed _ is if someone  _ removed _ it, and I told you to  _ WAIT _ in case-”

“Can we-” Max interrupted, “Can we back this up a second, ‘cause I’m still a li’l loss on the  _ freaky tentacle monster comin’ out of a man’s chest _ , thing.”

“Ditto on that,” Sam said.

“Don’t say ‘ditto’, Sam.”

The creature sighed, but nodded. “Yes, I  _ do _ suppose this warrants quite the explanation. And one that I am willing to give since you are correct in that we are not necessarily enemies.”

“We’re listening,” the dog replied, casually putting one hand in his pocket.

“A hundred and four years ago, Papierwaite here foolishly attempted to summon me using the brain of another Psychic-”

“My great-grandfather,” Max said.

“Precisely.”

“My spell was not enough to summon him alone,” Papierwaite explained, crossing one leg over the other. “Hence the need for a Psychic brain.”

“The spell should have simply  _ failed _ once it had been foiled by both of your great-grandsires,” Yog-Soggoth continued. “But Maximus had greater - and admittedly  _ unstable _ \- power than anyone could have predicted. With it, a  _ microscopic _ piece of my essence had been extracted from my whole-” Max snickered slightly. “-And placed into this dimension. My original host was meant to be Maximus himself with the intention to rapidly assimilate him and possess a physical form in this realm once again, but since the spell had failed, I ended up fused into Papierwaite instead.”

Papierwaite spoke up again, “We have spent these past hundred and four years attempting to locate the Toybox to assist in unfusing us, but it has been hidden for years, likely protected by magic far stronger than mine just as it had been before Monsieurs Conejo and Eisenhowler found it. Up until now - but as Yog-Soggoth stated, I got careless in my excitement. Now we have no Toybox, and no means to send  _ him _ home or allow  _ me _ to finally rest.”

“So is  _ that _ why you were tryin’ t’ work with Skunkape?” Sam asked. “Because y’ needed the Toybox?”

“ _ Oui _ . But the mystical display you were seeing was not that spell. I had made a deal with Skun-ka’pe that I would gather the Toys of Power for him in exchange for my use of the Toybox. Unfortunately, I do not think it was ever his plan to allow me to use it.”

“I believe that!” Max said. “He’s got a  _ real _ good way of screwin’ with people’s heads when he really wants to. Uh -  _ literally _ , sometimes, evidently.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about the toys and Toybox?” the dog inquired further.

“What do you wish to know?” the creature asked with a cant of his head that somehow looked incredibly unnatural.

“Well, the Boxists told me a thing or two-”

“Ugh!” Papierwaite scoffed, as if disgusted. “The  _ Boxists _ do not know the  _ slightest _ thing about the Toybox. They worship it blindly, call it the  _ Devil’s _ when it’s nothing to do with him-”

“Oh, hush,” Yog-Soggoth scolded lightly. “They may not have all the facts, true, but they are a perfectly respectable tribe. You are just angry because they have succeeded not once but  _ twice _ in hiding the Toybox-”

“Wait, wait, back up,” Sam interrupted, a look of confusion on his expression. “I feel like I could do with... _ all _ of that bein’ elaborated a li’l bit.”

“Allow me to start from the beginning, then. Long before the dawn of man, my kind was sovereign of this realm and many others. We welcomed the development of sentient life, drinking deeply from your bottomless wellsprings of terror - and, of course, your flesh.”

“That’s kinda nasty,” Max commented.

“For many eons, we bathed in your horror and worship. That is, until a powerful tribe - the ones now known as Boxists - rallied together to drive us back to the Dark Dimension.”

“So…molemen defeated you,” Sam said bluntly.

“Do not scoff. Perhaps they have lost touch of their original roots over the centuries, but they were formidable conjurers that could create spells with nothing but their souls and fingertips, and seers that could predict thousands of years of events - and that was  _ without _ the toys.”

“But molemen still defeated you.”

The creature sighed. “ _ Yes _ . This is true. But it still took the threat of the Chthonic Destroyer to  _ properly _ vanquish us-”

“What’s that?”

“The Chthonic Destroyer is the  _ ultimate _ Psychic toy,” Papierwaite explained. “A weapon built to destroy anything from the Dark Dimension, even the Old Gods themselves."

“Oh, so what you’re sayin’ is we should probably nab it before Professor Bobo does?” Max asked.

Yog-Soggoth shook his head. “You will not find it anywhere within this realm. It was sealed away for the safety of everybody in another dimension. Only those who are mentally stable enough to confront a harsh reality are capable of obtaining it.”

“That’s-” The dog paused to think for a moment. “...Actually kind of a  _ really _ clever way of protectin’ somethin’ like that.”

“Indeed - no one has been able to pass the test. Most are far too deep in their own denial and feelings to confront the truth for themselves.”

“Well, nonetheless, I’m sure Skunkape would find a way t’ cheat the system since he’s been real good at that before. If we’ve got a chance t’ get it ourselves, we probably should.”

“Very well, it is your sanity to sacrifice. Anyway, where was I...ah, yes - prior to the banishment, the last and youngest member of the Elder God race had been born. The day he was born, he shattered the supercontinent of Pangea, wildfires spread, windstorms kicked up. He is none other than my grandson -  **Junior** .”

The Freelance Police stared in bewilderment. “... _ Junior? _ ” Max said,  _ completely _ baffled.

“That is the simplified translation, yes. If I were to say his name properly, I would risk bursting your cerebellum and shattering your rib cages, and so I have been informed that is incredibly messy and also, in fact, fatal.”

Both of them merely blinked, and then Sam shook his head. “Continue,” was all he said.

“In an effort to keep my fitful grandchild preoccupied, I brought him many of my childhood keepsakes from the Dark Dimension, and created the Toybox to contain their unlimited power. Unfortunately, when our kind was banished, the Toybox was left behind in the chaos. You can imagine how upset he was about it.”

“‘Upset’,” Papierwaite muttered with an eye roll, placing his hands on his hips. “I believe the more accurate way to phrase it is that he will simply not stop  _ whining _ about it.”

“He is the equivalent of a  _ toddler _ , Anton - how else is he supposed to feel?”

“Wow,” Max said, looking at Papierwaite, “My old papa must’ve especially hated you with that attitude.”

Sam scratched behind his own ear as he processed the rather large amount of information he’d been given. “So, all of this t’ say that the Toybox was made by you?”

“That is correct,” the creature confirmed.

“And ya’ need it t’ unfuse...how does that work?”

“Essentially, there are areas where reality is weaker at certain hours. Once the power from the Toybox is used to place us both in a more flexible state, we would have only a couple of hours to get to the nearest one so that I may exit without too much destruction or fuss.”

“Awfully polite of you, considerin’ you’re an Elder God.”

“I would like to think that the events of this past century have humbled me.”

“Fair enough.” The dog adjusted his tie, then continued, “Anyway - this has certainly been an unexpected conversation, but at the very least it’s been insightful. We’ll leave you to your business now.”

“Before you go,” Papierwaite said, “There is one last thing that should be said.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“These clones - they are being possessed by dark magic. I can sense it. And if they are after the Toybox and Toys of Power, they very well are potentially being controlled by someone that wishes to weaken the walls of reality further than they already are. In a universe where the only thing protecting us from otherworldly horrors are those invisible barriers, that could prove to be  _ very _ dangerous.”

Sam thought over the statement of  _ ‘they are being possessed by dark magic’ _ more carefully than the rest of it, before finally replying, “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“If anything else comes up, we will try to let you know.”

“Sounds good. Au reservoir.”

The two exited the office shortly after, and climbed back into the tunnel. “So,” Max said once they were in, “That was a lot.”

“It was, yeah.”

“Do ya’ really think we should grab that Destroyer thingy?”

“Well, I especially do now that apparently dark magic might be involved with the Samulacra.”

“Dogglegangers. And yeah - that was a bit of a wrench thrown into the whole thing, wasn’t it? I mean, I’m not  _ surprised _ ‘cause of the glowin’ eyes and crap, but y’know.”

“The only people I can think of that could have even the slightest thing t’ do with dark magic are the Stinkys. But they seem almost too authentically surprised…”

“Grandpa Stinky was - but I wouldn’t trust Lady Stinky t’ have  _ any _ sorta authentic emotion. Besides, just think about it - a secret passage of  _ hers _ right under the diner that happens t’ lead right to a lab creatin’ clones only to have ‘em immediately brainwashed? And ya’ mentioned she took a deal that included you keepin’ your nose outta her business - maybe all ya’ did was play right into her hands.”

There was a point to be made that Girl Stinky probably wouldn’t have let them go so easily had she really been the true mastermind behind these dog clone attacks, but something about Max’s rambling was so endearing that he held his tongue in favour of flashing a smile at him, and saying, “Ya’ sound great when you’re deducin’ things, y’know that?”

“Ugh - it hurts my head, thinkin’ that hard,” he replied, though clearly joking.

“I think you should do it more often, personally. But that’s just me.”

The lagomorph could only scoff, turning his head to hide the smile he was failing to suppress. “Yeah, whatever.”

. . .

They explored a third tunnel, but it only led to some random street. “Well,” Sam said, glancing at Max, who was once again clinging to his shoulders, out of his peripheral. “Now we know how they’re gettin’ out.” Max was going to open his mouth to reply, before the sound of squealing tires rang clear through the quiet night, which was followed by the sight of the DeSoto being driven down the street at a break-neck speed. “Oh  _ no _ \- Sybil’s stuff’s still in there! And Carol!”

“At least when ya’ give ‘er her stuff back, you’ll have an interesting story t’ go along with it.” His ears twitched slightly. “Wonder where they’re goin’ in such a hurry?”

“We can figure that out later if her phone’s even still in there. We should probably head back to the diner, though - just t’ check in.”

“I hope we walk in on Stinky throwin’ plates at her gramps again. Oh - or suplexing him! Now  _ that _ I’d love t’ see!”

“You crack me up.”

They headed back and attempted to go back up the tunnel they took to get down there, but upon reaching the top of it, Sam found it blocked. After a few tries of trying to push it open, he eventually groaned. “Of course she friggin’  _ closed _ it so we can’t get out.”

“Not as high-tech as the other one, is it?” Max said from behind him. Sam merely whipped his tail once to the side, which, incidentally, happened to also whip Max in the face. “ _ Ugh _ , fine, gimme a second.” He grabbed a hold of Sam’s tail and pulled out the toy phone, managing to balance it on his knee before turning the dial to Stinky’s cell and putting the phone to his ear.

The two ended up appearing behind the counter once again. “Weird that I feel less sick doin’ that than I did when you were usin’ your powers through me,” Sam said.

“It’s probably ‘cause of- hey, I hear Flint!”

The dog’s ears perked up at that statement, and upon hearing the man’s voice himself, both of them proceeded to stand up to look around the counter. Surely enough, Flint Paper was standing in front of Girl Stinky who was seated at one of the booth tables, seeming as if he was in the middle of interrogating her while Grandpa Stinky was still busy shooting at the clones.

“Grandpa,” Stinky said, sounding incredibly annoyed, “Could you tell this  _ booze-soaked gumshoe _ to get  _ out _ of our diner?”

“Just answer the man’s questions,” was the only grumble of a reply she received.

The woman groaned and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna ask ya’ again,” Flint said, lifting up his phone to show her the screen. “ _ Who _ is the  _ ‘S’ _ on this letter? Who’s ‘you-know-who’ and why would they care about your partner-in-crime not being human? What’s the operation they’re mentioning?”

Stinky merely gave him a half-lidded stare, sounding mostly calm as she replied, “As I’ve told you - I have never seen that letter in my life.”

“Come  _ on _ -” He practically slapped the phone facedown on the table. “I can’t help ya’ if ya’ don’t give me anything.” She simply stared at him, and eventually he sighed deeply through his nose, standing up straight and beginning to pace with his hands on his hips.

Although Max had a toothy grin on his expression, it faltered slightly upon noticing Sam’s slightly troubled expression. “What’s up with you?”

“Well-” he started, intending to explain his dilemma of either lying to Flint or continue to go against what he told Stinky and yes, he realized it was stupid to stay loyal to a deal with someone he  _ wasn’t _ loyal to, but it could come in handy later again maybe if he played his cards right-

But, of course, given Max’s lack of volume control, Flint had ended up looking over in their direction, giving them both a smile. “Heya, fellas! Say, when did you two get here?”

Figuring Sam was a bit more mentally preoccupied, Max decided to wave his little paw, still consumed by the oversized jacket sleeve before replying, “Oh, y’know - just casually takin’ a nap behind the counter in the middle of a clone crisis!” He lightly tapped Sam’s leg before starting to approach the man. Sam followed behind.

“Hey, I feel that. Wouldn’t mind goin’ for a nap myself right about now. Wasn’t even expectin’ t’ be called out here this late, frankly.”

“Then what  _ does _ bring ya’ here?” Sam asked, about to remove his pot hat.

“Keep it on - it suits ya’.” Sam placed it back on so fast he accidentally banged his head off the bottom of it. “Anyway, the ol’ Stinky there called me over. He was rantin’ about some secret passage he found out about and wanted me over here then and there.”

“Wait, so Grandpa Stinky was the one who hired you for this?”

“Yeah, it was. I was supposed t’ keep it hush-hush - that’s why I was randomly ramblin’ ‘bout him and great-grandpa Emery with ya’ guys.”

“Dang,” Max said, glancing over at the old man. “And he just played right along with it, huh.”

“Ah wasn’t playin’ along with it,” Grandpa Stinky said. “Ah really thought ‘e really was actin’  _ that _ stupid.”

“Well, I think it’s a smart move,” Sam said, turning back to Flint. “Havin’ any luck with the case right now?”

“Not at all - I feel like a cheetah runnin’ on a treadmill right now just tryin’ t’ get anywhere with miss motormouth here. I got the right evidence I need t’ continue, but she’s not givin’ me  _ anything _ right now.”

“She  _ is _ a bit of a tough nut t’ crack, yeah.”

“I’m guessin’ you haven’t had any luck figurin’ anything out either, huh?”

The dog felt the slight pang of guilt in his chest even before he shook his head and said, “Nope. Nada.”

“Damn. You don’t even know ‘bout this secret passage?”

“C’mon, Flint,” Max said, giving a smile that seemed just a touch forced. “You know how Sam and I are when we take naps.”

The man chuckled, and said, “Yeah, I sure do - whole damn world could be fallin’ apart, and you two’d still be snoozin’ away.” He put his hands back on his hips and sighed with a shake of his head. “Ah well - guess all I can do is take a look around for now. Hang tight and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere, yeah?”

“Sure thing, Flint,” Sam replied. The two watched as the man walked past them to go explore the rest of the diner for any clues - and as soon as he was busy, the dog heaved a sigh through his nose.

“Look at what you made me do, Sam,” Max muttered, shaking his head. “You made me lie to Flint Paper.”

“...Yeah,” he muttered.

There was a brief moment of quiet, and then came Stinky’s voice, so low and quiet they could just barely hear her. “If you poor excuses of detectives are done being mopey over that other poor excuse of a detective, I need you to do me a favour.”

“Forget it,” Sam immediately whispered harshly towards her. “I’ve already given you that note and lied t’ my friend for ya’. We’re even.”

“No we’re not, because you morons are the reason he’s here in the first place. You made this mess, now you’re gonna clean it up.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Given your incompetence, I don’t think that’s an answer you can really afford to learn the hard way.”

Dammit, absolutely  _ none _ of this was worth being told where to find a ship he could’ve easily found himself. He sighed through his nose again. “...Fine. Whatever - what do you need me t’ do?”

“I need you to act like your my partner-in-crime, here.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” She stared at him. “You’re not kidding. Okay. Is there anything specific y’ need me t’ say, or-”

“I want you to tell him about our little  _ deal _ \- muddle the truth of it a bit - then follow my lead.” She stood up and grabbed his tie, yanking him forward a bit. “And look pissed when you tell him about it.”

“Don’t. Touch me,” he muttered with a slightly curled lip, which was only met by that uncaring, cold look of hers before she did so - followed by her putting one index finger on his chin, pressing a finely manicured nail right in, earning a low growl in the dog’s throat.

“Be a good doggy and don’t screw me over. Tell him about the deal like you’ve finally had enough of my shit, and don’t say anything else until  _ I _ get a word in.” She retracted her hand and crossed her arms, nodding in Flint’s direction. “Go on. Hurry it up.”

Sam huffed through his nose, before looking over at Max, who had a pretty blank look on his face up before blinking as he returned Sam’s look. “...Y’know, I don’t think I’ve seen ya’ snarl-y like that before.”

“Just stay here-” The dog turned to start walking off. “This’ll only take a minute.”

“It’s kinda hot.”

“Not now, Max.”

Flint had ended up behind the counter during their conversation, and spotted the green button. Before he had much of a chance to press it, though, he noticed Sam coming over in his peripheral and looked up. “Did ya’ get somethin’ outta her, Sam-o?”

“Actually,” Sam replied, leaning his knuckles on the counter once he reached it, “I  _ do  _ got somethin’ t’ tell ya’-”

“Don’t you  _ dare! _ ” came Stinky’s voice from behind him. Guess the ‘show’ was officially beginning now.

Obviously baffled but intrigued by the events suddenly unfolding, Flint found himself forgetting the button to lean on the counter himself to get closer to Sam. “What? What is it?”

He’d been specifically instructed to muddle the truth, so he did. “That damn lady conned me into a deal with ‘er, Flint - she made me promise not t’ share anything about-”

“Oh, that is a  _ lie! _ ” the lady in question shouted, her heels clicking as she stormed across the diner towards the men, all the while saying, “You told me yourself you would drop your investigation-”

“Wait, investigation?” Flint questioned.

Sam ignored it, and turned to face her full-on. “Yeah, I said I’d drop it, I didn’t know you’d make me keep it all a  _ damn secret! _ ”

“It’s not  _ my _ fault if you’re too  _ stupid- _ ” She shoved him, making him back into the counter roughly. “-To realize what you-”

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Flint quickly said upon seeing the small assault, going around the counter to put himself between the two. He glanced once at her before looking at Sam and asking, “What the hell’s goin’ on here?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Stinky spoke up first. “You wanna know what the hell’s going on!?” She then jabbed a finger towards the dog, and said, “ _ He’s _ the ‘S’ from that stupid note!”

A silence fell over the diner - even Grandpa Stinky had stopped shooting to look over with a stone hard look. Girl Stinky’s glare remained while everyone else seemed shocked - including Sam himself, who had  _ not _ seen that coming. She really  _ hadn’t _ been kidding about him being her ‘partner-in-crime’. At least the shocked look helped sell that, maybe, he was mortified that his ‘partner’ just outed him. Eventually, Max broke the silence, “Now  _ this _ is a twist!”

“...That’s not true,” Flint said quietly, looking back at Sam. “Is it?”

“Oh, it’s true, alright,” Stinky said, crossing her arms then giving a nod towards the dog. “Go on. Tell him.”

Sam had to blink a few times before giving a slight sigh. Damn, she was  _ really _ going this angle, huh? Making  _ him _ look like one of the bad guys here. “...Yes,” he finally lied. “That is true.” Flint looked at him in complete and utter disbelief, but he ignored it and kept going. “I had the note written for me,” he added, remember what Flint had said when he’d joked about Sam writing it, “And I sent it to her.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam, I was  _ kidding _ …”

“ _ Now _ I see why you were so gullible and defensive when he was kiddin’ about it!” Max decided to chime in, playing along. “You thought he had ya’ figured out!”

“...Sure,” Sam said.

Flint still looked like he absolutely couldn’t believe it, but eventually he blinked, gaze averting to the ground before looking back at Sam with furrowed brows. In turn, the dog flicked his ears, and Flint’s brows relaxed, seeming to have picked up on the small tell without Stinky’s noticing. The man straightened up, and exhaled through his nose to get rid of the previous tension from his shoulders. “...What’s the operation?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know. She hasn’t told me directly. She’s just been givin’ me tidbits here and there.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. But what deal did ya’ take t’ get wrapped up in this mess?”

Before Sam could answer, the old man said, “Oh, fer  _ God’s Sake _ \- ye don’t  _ actually _ believe this crock o’ shite, do ye!? Ye know who the ‘S’ prob’ly belongs to - that damned bugheaded friend o’ hers!”

“‘Bugheaded?’” Flint repeated with a raised brow. “Wait -  _ friend? _ ”

The dog seemed confused, and then glanced over at Stinky to see what her reaction was - and was surprised to see her seeming genuinely a little worried. She quickly caught his eye, and with furrowed brows she mouthed,  _ ‘do something’ _ . He thought briefly for a moment, before his eyes wandered over to the barrel under the table.

“Aye,  _ bugheaded _ \- ‘e ain’t got much up there!” Grandpa Stinky continued ranting while that exchange occurred, tapping at his temple with a free hand. “And a damn filthy-”

“I can prove it’s me,” Sam interrupted. “Flint, go back around the counter.” The man did as he asked, and he glanced at Stinky to gauge her reaction. She didn’t seem overly surprised or angry, so either she didn’t care about what he was about to expose or she was doing a really good job at hiding it.  _ Too late to go back now _ , he thought as he went over to the table. He looked over at Flint once he was behind the counter, and asked, “Y’see the button?”

“Sure do,” he confirmed.

Sam nodded, then proceeded to kick aside the barrel, the empty wooden thing thudding against the floorboards, rolling slightly off to the side. “Press it.” He did, and there was yet again a whirring sound as the table lowered into the ground, eventually stopping once it became a platform.

“That’s right. And how else would I know about it if I wasn’t workin’ with her?” Upon saying that, he looked right at Girl Stinky. She merely crossed her arms and shrugged a shoulder. He was gonna guess that was a good sign.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Flint said as he came over towards the platform, rubbing his brow with a thumb. He then looked at Sam and asked, “And where does this go, exactly?”

“Y’know, I’m not entirely sure,” he replied, sounding almost a little too genuinely oblivious. “I knew about it, but she never lemme down there.”

“Guess that means I gotta take a look around. I’ll be back in a bit.” The man turned to his friend, and then said, “Sam, ol’ pal, I dunno what mess she’s gotten ya’ into, but I’ll make sure ya’ get out of it.”

“Good luck t’ ya’, Flint.” With that, the hard-boiled detective took a step onto the platform, which then descended further into the floor. Sam turned to look at a rather nonchalant looking Girl Stinky. “...Y’ said ‘do somethin’’,” he stated, just for good measure.

“You’re a lot less dopier of an actor than I guessed,” she replied. Judging by her not even acknowledging that he gave away the other secret passage, he guessed he really  _ was _ in the clear.

“I was a theatre kid.”

“That explains a lot.”

“...Ye have  _ TWO _ bloody secret passages in the diner!?” Grandpa Stinky finally yelled, completely outraged.

The lady promptly gave an eye roll, and muttered, “Oh, here we go again-”

“An’ what kinna sick game are ye playin’, actin’ like this mutt’s-” He angrily gestured towards Sam, “-got anythin’ t’ do with anythin’!?”

“If we’re playing a ‘game’ in your eyes,  _ grandpa _ -” venom may as well have been dripping off of the word, “Then you’ve already  _ lost _ considering you gave away your hand before you even won.”

“The hell are ye talkin’ aboot-”

“You thought you had me, so you went and revealed that  _ you _ hired him - which, by the way, I already had a damn feeling because you’re so  _ predictable _ -”

In the middle of their arguing, Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked it before turning to Max. “That’s Mama Bosco, she must be ready.”

“Ah, boo - in the middle of a Stinkys argument again,” he replied with a feigned pout, then asked, “Guessin’ we’re takin’ the short way since we don’t got a car?”

“We sure are.” Ignoring the two arguing behind him once again, he watched as Max got the phone out again. “...Ya’ really thought the snarling was  _ hot? _ ”

“Not now, Sam,” Max simply said before grabbing Sam’s hand and putting the phone to his ear.

. . .

“You know,” Papierwaite spoke after taking a sip of coffee, still busy trying to figure out how to clean the mess that those darn space apes had left him, various papers lying in front of him on his desk as well as both opened and closed books, “Not that I doubt your judgement, but why  _ did _ you tell them as much as you did?”

“They are not like their elder relatives,” Yog-Soggoth replied as the man set aside the mug. “Well - Maximiliano is incredibly similar to Maximus, even down to the abilities.”

“He looked up to him,” he murmured, examining a paper before setting it down to open a drawer to pull out a pen. “You could just tell by the way he reacted when I mentioned his name.”

“Probably why he somewhat renamed himself after him.” The man hummed. “However, as I was saying - what I had meant was he has an even larger role to play than his great-grandfather. They both do.”

“And what role would that be?” Papierwaite inquired as he began writing on the page.

“That is just the thing - I’m not quite certain. I do not feel like they are any sort of harbingers for death and destruction, but as of now, I cannot tell if they have that choice.”

He couldn’t help but groan, pausing in his writing to look down at the eldritch creature. “Are you talking about that prophecy of those molemen again?”

“Perhaps you are more of a skeptic of them, but I am  _ not _ . They have made predictions of events with such precision that I have no reason to doubt them.”

“Well, I do. They claim the Toybox can be destroyed, but it cannot.”

“It cannot as far as we know,” Yog-Soggoth corrected. “But somehow, I feel, those two may find a way-”

He was cut short by the sound of banging on the window, making both him and the man look towards the window. Surely enough, there were clones outside, banging their hands against the windows. “...They can’t get in,” Papierwaite mumbled, though he still found himself slowly getting up from his chair, watching them carefully. The loud and frantic banging persisted, and he kept an eye on them the whole time. “Dammit - why don’t they just go  _ away? _ ”

“I’m not-” Yog-Soggoth started to say, but cut himself off, his eyes widening with realization. “Anton, the door!”

“What about the d-” Before he could even finish questioning, the door to his office swung open, banging against the wall so hard it left a hole in the wall from the handle, several clones immediately starting to flood in. The ones at the window had been purposely creating noise to distract from the others.

His fingers surged with energy, and he made a gesture to blow some of the clones back. Shortly after, there was the audible crash of glass as the ones by the window eventually broke through, now beginning to climb in. “Get  _ RID _ of them!” Yog-Soggoth yelled.

“What does it look like I’m doing!?” Papierwaite continued to try and fight them off with his magic, but quickly sound himself surrounded and overwhelmed. He was eventually seized by the shoulders, and had the back of his head slammed down on the desk.


	12. Search #3 (2/2): Someone Else Is Pulling At The Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam & Max continue to find who is truly responsible for the clones - and Sam undergoes a trial.

“Hey, Mama B!” Max greeted, surprising the lady and making her turn around quickly.

“Hey! That was fast,” she replied.

“Well, so was your progress on this device,” Sam spoke up, adjusting his tie.

“A little motivation goes a long way.” With a smile, she turned to the device in question, which seemed like a pretty standard monitor with buttons that meant nothing to someone who didn’t know their way around the machine, and made gestures towards it as she spoke. “I’ve gotten the specter synchronization down pat, so when I push this right here, I should be able to- oh, c’mon, guys, don’t be shy, come get a closer look!”

The duo approached closer as she proceeded to press some buttons on the panel in front of her, the screen flashing colours and displays in a pattern that was hard to follow for the two, before it eventually made a beeping noise, and something that appeared to be a map along with some sort of heat signature was now on the monitor.

“Look, look-” Mama Bosco said excitedly, pointing a gloved finger right at the heat signature. “There I am!”

“Neat!” Max said with a grin.

“So now, I go and-” As she spoke, she was tapping rapidly at the keys on the panel. “And I get this to connect with the cloning chamber I got over there-” There was a humming sound that made the two look over, the cloning chamber having turned on after she pressed something. “So _now_ all I gotta do is actually get a clone made in there and it’ll stabilize me enough for me to go right in it!”

“That’s fantastic!” Sam said cheerfully. “Mind if we do the honours for ya’?”

“Aw, of course you can! There’s a petri dish right on the table, it’s got an old strand of my hair in it - all you gotta do is pop it into the open tray.”

“Okay-”

“Dibs!” Max shouted, quickly sprinting towards the table, somehow not tripping over the large coat with his large feet. The dog merely stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched him grab the petri dish and take it over to the cloning machine, going on his tiptoes to put it in the open tray that looked similar to a DVD tray. Once he did, the tray closed, followed by an electronic voice saying, ‘DNA ACCEPTED. PROCESSING CLONE.’

Shortly after that, though, Sam’s gaze wandered slightly from the cloning chamber to the Dimensional Destabilizer, and his ears perked up with a thought. “Say, got a minute t’ talk, Mama Bosco?” he asked, turning back to the scientist.

“We sure do! It’s gonna take a couple of minutes for this to warm up and form a full clone from only a hair of DNA anyway. Why, what’s up?”

“This is gonna sound a li’l strange and I dunno how much ya’ believe in magic, but we got a sorta tip that we might be dealin’ with some dark magic with these clones.”

She blinked. “...That _is_ strange, but alright. In what way are we talking about here?”

“I believe the phrase used was, word-for-word, _‘possessed by dark magic’_.”

“That’s specific. They thinking that they’re like that because of this ‘dark magic’?”

“It would sound like it. ‘Course, I wanna try your idea of overridin’ ‘em first before I make that judgement.”

“Of course, but that doesn’t explain why you’re bringing this up with me. Not that I’m complaining, but…”

“No, I know. Um-” He removed the pot and wandered over to the table to set it down, scratching his head. “There’s apparently this one toy that could help solve the problem - least, it sounded like it could, I don’t really know - but it’s in another dimension, and I’m lookin’ over at the Dimensional Destabilizer there and thinkin’ maybe that could come in handy.”

“It certainly could,” she said with a nod, but her brows were furrowed slightly. “But it’d be dangerous. I’d have to calibrate it and make sure you wouldn’t get stuck there.”

“Of course. But, y’know, I’m just thinkin’ that if somethin’ doesn’t go right with the override, then we can at least use the other thing to try and take care o’ the problem.”

“I suppose…” She appeared very thoughtful, before there was a whirring sound, followed by, ‘CLONE COMPLETE’. She gasped lightly, her face lighting right up with an excited smile.

“She’s ready t’ go!” Max shouted from where he stood, having been bouncing eagerly on his feet and flopping the oversized sleeves around while watching the cloning machine curiously.

“ _Yes!_ ” she said excitedly. “Well, here goes nothing!” With that, the ghost lady flew into the air and over into the machine. A few moments later, the door was slowly hissing open, and out was stepping Mama Bosco - fully alive. She let out a deep breath with lungs that she hadn’t had in _years_ , patting her hair with a hand before propping both hands on her hips, and asking with a smile, “Lookin’ good?”

“Lookin’ good!” the lagomorph confirmed, Sam nodding in agreement.

“Perfect!” She clapped her hands together happily. “Now, Sam, about the Destabilizer?”

Max’s ears perked up at that, but Sam replied, “We should try t’ override the clones first before I try t’ grab that. Like ya’ said, it’s dangerous, and we did get a word of warning that it’s not gonna be easy t’ get in. No need t’ waste time with it just yet.”

“Then let’s not waste too much time here. Time t’ stop those clones!” She proceeded to walk past them towards the tunnel, and the other two followed behind her. 

However, while she climbed down, Max grabbed ahold of Sam’s hand, getting his attention and making him look down. “What’s up?” Sam asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Just, uh- just wonderin’ about the mention of the Destabilizer, that’s all. I mean, why was it...”

“Oh. I was tellin’ her about that Destroyer thing, and asked if it would help. She said it could, just that she’d need t’ recalibrate it and stuff. That’s all.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.” He stopped speaking, but he was still holding onto the dog’s hand. “...You weren’t plannin’ on goin’ in there yourself, were ya’?”

“Let’s just worry about one thing at a time, okay?” Max’s ears pinned back slightly but he said nothing. Awkwardly, Sam slipped his hand out of his, and lowered himself down. Max followed a moment after.

“There you guys are!” Mama Bosco said as they approached the opposite end. “I was wondering what happened there.”

“Not all of us are as _spry_ as you are,” Sam joked.

This earned a huff from Max. “Speak for yourself, Mr. _I slept wrong now my back craves death_.”

Sam merely gave a playful eye roll while Mama Bosco laughed. “C’mon, let’s hurry, before-” She turned around, and her smile vanished at once, a look of surprise replacing it. “What the _heck?_ ”

“What?” Sam asked, both him and Max turning to face the same direction she was facing- “Oh, sweet 19th century French entertainers conspiring against the cargoman.”

Near the tunnel leading up to the diner was Girl Stinky and Sal.

“What the hell are they doing-” Max started questioning, before being hushed by both Sam, who had his ears perked forward, and Mama Bosco, who had an arm extended in front of the dog, and he quieted down, quickly realizing the reason: Neither of them had seen them yet, and they were talking.

“...So sorry,” Stinky was saying as they were listening in, getting closer to Sal as she continued, “I had no idea he did that, I should’ve-”

“Stinky, _relax_ ,” Sal replied. “I could o’ said somethin’ - _should’ve_ \- I just didn’t wanna distract ya’.”

“No, you did the right thing by not telling me - I was throwing plates at his head just finding out on my _own_. If I heard it coming from you, I think I would have jeopardized us.”

“So what are we gonna do now?”

“I don’t think these _‘new arrangements’_ -” She made air quotes with her fingers, the words sounding bitter, “-will pose much of an issue. I do think we should move quicker, though.”

“Weren’t we already moving as fast as we could?”

“We were, but fate’s got other plans. Somehow or another, that old man’s got an entire _fortune_ in his possession-”

“How?”

“I dunno, but he has it. He’s already gotten rid of you, which means if he tries to bump me out, it’s _over_ . We’ll have no restaurant, no money - _nothing_.” She added in a mutter, “May as well go crawling back to the ocean I came from-”

“D’you really think he’d do that? I mean, you’re still his-”

“No I’m _not_ ,” she snapped, though not necessarily at him. She paced in a small circle as she said, “ _Granddaughter_ this, _Grandpa_ that-” before proceeding to whip back around to face Sal. “He’s _nothing_ to me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not- I’m not mad with you, I just-” She sighed, pressing the fingertips of one hand to her forehead. “I just need this bullshit to be _over_ . And once it is, you and I can have _everything_ we’ve ever wanted.”

“‘M with ya’ ‘til the end, Stinky.”

“I know you are, _Mr. S_ ,” she teased lightly, earning a small chuckle from the cockroach.

“Just, uh- just one question.”

“Mhm?”

He looked off to the side, in the direction where the hundreds of cloning chambers were. “...Was all of this here last time?”

The lady blinked, then followed his gaze, appearing visibly shocked once she saw what he was seeing. “Jesus- _no?_ What the hell is- who _put_ this h-” Right as she attempted to say the word, she inhaled harshly, sounding as if she had the air forcibly sucked out of her lungs.

Sal’s antennae perked up in alarm. “Stinky!? Are y-” Before he could finish, his words caught on his throat, which was then followed by the sound of him choking.

By this point, Sam, Max and Mama Bosco were all alarmed themselves, staring wide-eyed in horror at what looked and sounded like two individuals completely unable to breathe. “Oh my God,” Mama Bosco murmured, “We have to help them-!”

She attempted to run forwards, but Sam whispered, “No, no, wait!” and grabbed the collar of her lab coat.

“What are you doing!?” she whispered harshly back. “They’re-”

“Max and I’ve seen this before, just _wait_.”

She shot a glare at him at first, but upon looking back, the irritated look vanished, replaced with one of almost _fear_ as she watched both Stinky and Sal’s eyes slowly turn pure purple, their horrible choking sounds slowly ceasing, the both of them standing up straight before wandering elsewhere in the lab. “...Dark magic,” she mumbled, though she couldn’t fully believe she was saying that with such certainty.

“Uh-huh,” was all Sam replied.

“...Let’s just get to this override.” The scientist began walking forward with some level of caution, and the Freelance Police followed behind her. For the most part, the now possessed Stinky and Sal seemed preoccupied. “It should just be over there,” Mama Bosco said, gesturing to the giant platform floating over the black pit below. “Weird that the elevator’s not over _here_ , though...Let me see if I can call it over.”

As she proceeded to walk over to a panel, Sam looked at Max, and said, “So Sal was responsible for that note all along.”

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly expectin’ Stinky t’ have someone so chill as her partner-in-crime. And did ya’ hear her? She even said _sorry_. Didn’t even know she was capable.”

“It must be an extra cold day down in Hell indeed. In any case, your theory’s out the window, which unfortunately means our possession-happy mastermind’s someone else.”

“We oughta be careful, then. Well- you and Mama Bosco should be, for sure. I’m sure my lovely Psychic brain still doesn’t allow for brainwashing. Point bein’ we can’t be sure if they’ll try t’ get ya’ next.”

“Call this regular ol’ intuition, but I get the feelin’ if they wanted us possessed, they’d just do it.” Max thought about that for a moment, then gave a slight shrug, seeing that Sam had a fair point.

“Dammit!” Mama Bosco said suddenly, making the other two look over at her quickly. “Someone _completely_ reprogrammed this- I can’t even _recognize_ this code!”

“ **That’s because you mortals are far too simple-minded,** ” responded not-Stinky, making the trio jump a bit before turning to look at her. Unlike the clones that looked completely blank, her expression had a sort of smug look of superiority and derision, her eyes actually seeming to flicker as if there was a reflection of a candle light in them.

Mama Bosco shot a glare, and pushed past Sam and Max - the former of which raised his hands in case he needed to try and stop her again - as she said, “What did you do to my lab!?”

“ ** _Your_** **lab?** ” She _tsked_ , wagging a finger at her. “ **This was never meant to be** ** _yours_** **, remember?** ” She placed both hands on her own chest. “ **This lab is mine. Therefore, I improved it in the way** ** _I_** **saw fit.** ”

“And just who _are_ you?” Sam asked, stepping forwards to stand at the scientist’s side.

“ **Aw, what’s the fun in that? Isn’t it your** **_job_ ** **to figure out who’s pulling the strings?** ”

“Yeah, but you’d be doin’ us a huge solid if ya’ just told on yourself!” Max chimed in. The possessed lady merely laughed a laugh that sounded completely unnatural and creepy - as if there were more than one voice coming from Stinky’s mouth - before it got cut off abruptly, her expression suddenly seeming blank and empty as she turned around, swaying slightly, and returned to what she was doing. “...Well, I tried.”

Mama Bosco sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry, guys. As long as I can’t access that platform over there, I can’t override those cloning machines _or_ the clones.”

“We’ll figure somethin’ out,” Sam said, and glanced towards the platform. “...There’s gotta be a way t’ get _them_ t’ call the elevator over.”

“That’s a start, but it’s a two-step process - you call it over, then you need to let it know that you’re on it and ready to go so you don’t accidentally fall. With me practically locked out of its controls, it won’t do us much good.”

“ _Wellll_ ,” Max said, “If you can at least get Stinky over here, then I could probably teleport over. I doubt that she _wouldn’t_ have her phone on her still.”

“Good idea, li’l buddy,” Sam praised, earning a smile from the lagomorph. “Now all we need t’ do is give ‘em a reason t’ go over there…” He thought for a moment, eyeing the platform again before his eyes fell onto one of those wandered lights. A slightly mischievous smile appeared on his features. “And I got just the plan.”

“ _Ooh_ , I like that look! Whatcha thinkin’?”

“Oh, nothin’,” he casually replied as he started walking towards the edge of the lab, Max following behind him. As he grew closer to the rail, he pulled out his revolver. “Just a li’l bit-” He carefully aimed, closing one eye. “-of good ol’ property damage.” One moment. Two. Three. 

_BAM_. One of the lights sparked before dying after the bullet made contact with it. Shortly after, an electronic voice announced, ‘DEAD LIGHT BULB DETECTED IN CLONE CONTROL SPOTLIGHT. PLEASE ALERT MAINTENANCE ENGINEER.’

“Nice shootin’, Tex!”

“Thanks, li’l buddy.”

Both turned towards the possessed duo, waiting expectantly. However, the one that started moving was Sal. They both watched as he walked zombie-like towards the panel Mama Bosco had been at moments ago, tapping on it in a seemingly random pattern. There was a whirring sound behind them, and looking over they watched as the elevator platform quite literally flew over, and a large circle opened up in the floor which was soon filled by the platform clicking into place. Not-Sal then walked onto it, tapping on the monitor that was attached to the rail of the platform, which then sent it back off towards the larger, floating platform.

“Got the wrong guy, Sam.”

Sam hummed, a frown on his expression. “...Well, it’s fine, we have his-” Upon looking at Max, the lagomorph quickly shook his head, saying ‘mm-mm’, which made Sam shake his own head and murmur, “We don’t have his cell number, no.”

“Work number,” Max clarified in a mutter.

“Yeah, not cell…” He sighed through his nose and looked back to the platform. Sal had just gotten onto the platform and swung open one of the panes of bulletproof glass. He then leaned himself over the edge, hooking his feet onto the edge and grabbing onto the light. “Dang,” Sam said, “That’s quite the lower body strength.”

Max’s nose twitched, and he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “It’s not _that_ impressive. I mean, he’s a cockroach.”

The dog looked at him with a raised brow, then gave an amused huff. “And you wanted t’ call _me_ jealous.”

“Wh- I am _not_ jealous!” he said with an annoyed stamp of his foot. “I’m just sayin’ you’re too easily impressed by what’s the equivalent of a professional acrobat doin’ a cartwheel.”

“That’s pretty impressive, too,” Sam replied, using monotone to hide the fact that he was joking, though his amused expression gave him away.

Still, Max was snatching the revolver from his hand and saying, “You wanna see impressive? I’ll _show_ ya’ impressive.” He proceeded to climb up Sam, who braced himself on the rail to keep himself steady as Max got onto his shoulders, standing up straight and aiming very carefully towards one of the objects on the desk on the platform...

_BAM!_ There was a distant sound of ceramic shattering, the bullet having found its way to the mug sitting on the desk corner.

Sam gave a small whistle. “Nice.”

“See?” Max said, handing him back his revolver, hopping down from his spot on Sam’s shoulders. “That’s _way_ cooler than what Sterling’s got over there.”

“I feel like your references are gettin’ more obscure.”

“Well, it’s not _my_ fault if-” He was interrupted by the electronic voice speaking once again; ‘MALFUNCTION DETECTED IN CLONE CONTROL CONSOLE UNIT. PLEASE SEND TECHNICIAN.’

The two turned around again, and both flashed a smile when they saw not-Stinky following the protocol to eventually end up on the elevator. “Good work, Max - your need to outdo Sal actually made us progress!”

“You’re welcome.”

The possessed lady arrived onto the platform, and- “Wait...what’s she-” Sam started saying, before his eyes widened as she noticed her reaching for the glass pane Sal had opened. “WAIT, NONO-” he shouted, making the lagomorph next to him flinch as he practically leaned across the rail in an attempt to have his pleas heard-

And could only watch helplessly as she shut it, causing the cockroaches feet to slide right off the edge. He was unable to hang onto the light he had been fixing, and ended up falling like an unfeeling ragdoll down, down, down into the deep pit below.

The Freelance Police both stared down in complete shock, both wincing at the distant _thud_ that eventually came. Sam let out a shaky thud, leaning over the rail and covering his face with his hands. Max awkwardly patted his shoulder, and said - though not with much confidence - “...I’m sure, he’ll, uh...he’ll survive that. I don’t think that’ll kill him.” Pause. “I think.”

Sam didn’t move for a moment, before eventually heaving a deep sigh and slid a hand down his face, letting it linger over his mouth. “...It’s not like we could’ve known, right?”

“Yeah! Right, exactly…”

“...We should get his number from Papierwaite t’ try and see if he’s okay.”

“We should.”

“...Later.”

“Right, later.” He then pulled out the toy phone and asked, “Teleportin’ time?”

“In just a sec.” He turned towards Mama Bosco, who had been preoccupied with trying to fix the program she’d been locked out of, and called to her, “Hey, Doctor ma’am!”

“Uh-hum?” she called back, half-distracted for a moment before looking right over at him.

“Wanna be disassembled at the quantum level then reassembled about forty metres to the left?” Max shook the phone in his hand with a slight grin after the dog asked.

The scientist gave a smile and said as she walked over, “You know it, baby!” With that, she placed a hand on Max’s shoulder while Sam placed a hand on his head. Max then put the phone to his ear, and all three of them were disassembled at the quantum level then reassembled about forty metres to the left and right onto the platform.

The possessed Stinky’s sluggish movements as she cleaned the broken mug ceased immediately, her expression once again seeming more attentive, and she gave an annoyed groan as she turned to them. “ **You can’t be left alone for ten minutes, can you?** ”

“Nope!” Max said, feeling oddly fine this time despite using his powers. “We’re pretty good like that.”

“ **No matter. You’re still no closer t-** ”

“Oh, wait, no, here it comes.” Max put a hand to his mouth, nausea rising rapidly.

She sighed, and pointed behind her. “ **Trash can’s right there.** ” The lagomorph quickly moved past her. “ **Flesh creatures are so disgusting,** ” she muttered, crossing her arms. “ **What was I saying? Oh, yes - you’re still no closer to discovering the truth.** ”

“That won’t matter in a second,” Mama Bosco declared with a determined expression, promptly removing one of her gloves then turning to the scanner with a hand shape on it, placing her palm flat against it. It flashed green for a moment, before zapping her, making her flinch away with a yelp. “What the-?”

Not-Stinky once again gave that strange laugh, though it sounded oddly more akin to a child laughing uncontrollably at something they found simply _hilarious_ . “ **You sounded- so confident-** ” she managed to say in the midst of her laughter.

Mama Bosco nor Sam seemed to find it quite as funny, both seeming annoyed by their being mocked. Max, however, having finished emptying the contents of his already pretty empty stomach (Jesus, he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours) was now lifting his head with a groan, before his ears twitched upon hearing what sounded like several footsteps approaching. He got to his feet and squinted through the glass, and gasped lightly. “Uh...guys?” Both of them looked at him, then followed his gaze-

“Uh oh,” Sam said with a slightly worried expression upon seeing the large group of clones suddenly flooding the lab across from the platform.

“ **Don’t you see?** ” Stinky said, having finally calmed down from her laughing fit. “ **You have** **_lost_ ** **. They will come and take your-** ” She was abruptly cut off by Mama Bosco decking her right in the jaw, resulting in her collapsing to the floor, knocked out cold.

“ _Jesus_ -”

“Mama _Bosco!_ ”

“Sorry, boys, but she was getting on my last nerve.”

“Hey, neither of us said we were judgin’!” Sam smiled, though it faded. “We gotta deal with these clones before they try t’ get up here, though.”

“And fast,” Max commented, watching the nearby elevator remove itself from the platform, “They’ll be here any minute!”

“Hang on,” Mama Bosco said, quickly moving behind the desk and kneeling down, opening up a drawer. “The override worked, I think, so if I just-” While the lagomorph anxiously bounced on his feet watching the elevator float to the other side, she dug out a microphone and strung the cord through-

“Wait, are they gettin’ on one at a time?” Max questioned with a tilt of his head.

“They’re not exactly the brightest,” Sam replied.

“Hey now, that’s still you.”

“Exactly.”

“ _Sam-!_ ”

“Got it!” the scientist exclaimed, pulling the desk chair forward quickly and sitting in front of the microphone she’d set up. At once, she held down the button on it, and said, “Stop!”

Just in time for the elevator to arrive, all the clones ceased in their movements, including the one now on the platform with them.

“Oh my God, that actually worked.”

“How?” asked Sam, looking at the one standing on the elevator warily. “Their eyes are still glowin’...”

“I don’t know, but I don’t care. All that matters is for now, we’re safe.” She leaned back in the chair. “What do we do now?”

The dog had a thoughtful expression, but Max spoke up. “Why don’t we try t’ send ‘em to whoever’s runnin’ ‘em?”

“Not a bad idea. Let’s give it a try.” She leaned forward, and instructed, “Go to your master.” The clones didn’t budge from their spots, though a couple looked around in confusion. “Huh,” she hummed in fascination, rubbing her chin. “...Maybe if I knew their real name?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam said, “None of us do.” Max grunted in annoyance. “...Wait, I know. Tell ‘em t’ go to the Toybox.”

“The Toyb-” she started questioning, then promptly said, “Y’know what, okay. Clones, go to the Toybox. Whatever that means,” she added in a mutter.

The clones seemed to stall for a moment, but then began to turn around and started heading off. The clone on the elevator even turned around and tapped something on the panel. The trio quickly hopped onto the elevator before it started floating off. Once it reached the other side, the clone simply walked off, following its brethren.

“Well, there they go,” Mama Bosco said.

“C’mon, Sam,” Max said, “Let’s go follow ‘em up that tunnel-”

“Oh, no. Not yet, li’l buddy.” He looked at the scientist. “Mama Bosco, if you wouldn’t mind, please and thank you, now would be a good time to recalibrate that Destabilizer.”

She hesitated, but she gave a nod. “Sure thing.” She then headed back to her main lab.

“ _Now?_ ” The lagomorph was wide-eyed in disbelief. “They’re goin’ straight to the Toybox, and you wanna grab that Catholic Destroyer _now?_ ”

“Chthonic,” Sam patiently corrected. “And frankly, after the displays we saw, yes. I’d rather not go dealin’ with possessed, half-naked clones of myself without somethin’ t’ fight back with.”

While the dog started walking, Max followed behind. “Yeah, but- Sam, who knows how long that trial - test, whatever - is! I mean, this is word we got from some random squid guy trapped in a guy’s chest- hell, who knows if he’s even bein’ honest! But even if he is, how long’s a test to some Lovecraftian bastard? I mean, we could be lookin’ at hours, or months, or-”

“You’re tryin’ t’ talk me out of this.”

“Oh, so you _are_ plannin’ on goin’ in there yourself.”

“‘Course I was, what else was I gonna do?”

“Uh, take me with you, duh.”

“Not a chance. I dunno what you saw during that séance, but I know I sure as hell ain’t subjectin’ you t’ anything else.”

“That’s the exact reason I don’t want ya’ doin’ this alone-”

“You said you were fine.”

Max faltered in his step and fell silent, fully aware that he’d slipped up and now was being called out. “I...was. I am! But, y’know, it's still hard on ya’. I mean, don’tcha remember what happened when y’ read Pap-ee-ey’s mind? You were probably lucky just t’ have a nose bleed-” Sam finally stopped in his tracks to look at the lagomorph, whose ears fell back against the back of his head at the look he was receiving. “...We don’t know what we’re dealin’ with, Sam.”

“I trusted you when your fate could’ve been bein’ stuck in oblivion or worse.” ~~Definitely worse.~~ “Don’t ya’ trust _me_ t’ do this?”

“...I guess,” Max murmured, looking down. He looked back up again when he felt a paw on his shoulder, meeting Sam’s eyes.

“I appreciate that you’re worried, Max. But this has t’ be done. Besides - whatever harsh reality I’m gonna have thrown at me, I’m sure I can face it.”

“I’m not sure if I like how ya’ seem so sure of that…”

“I can. I’ve dealt with plenty of crap over the years - this is just one more thing.” Sam removed his hand from Max’s shoulder and continued on. Max could only stare at him with a mix of worry and doubt for a moment before sighing through his nose and following behind him.

“So here’s the deal,” Mama Bosco eventually said after a few minutes of tinkering with the Dimensional Destabilizer. “I have this set up, hopefully you end up being drawn to the dimension you’re looking for - but of course, as a very concerned scientist questioning the full safety of this mini-mission, I have this programmed to be able to keep a sort of tether, so to speak, on you. I’m going to give you thirteen minutes-”

Sam raised a brow. “Specifically thirteen?”

“Yes, specifically thirteen. You have thirteen minutes to do what you need to do starting from the moment I transport you over there. After that, I’m pulling you out. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Perfect. Now give me your phone.” The dog dug through his pocket and handed it to her. She swiped a few things on it then showed him the timer she’d set up. “Thirteen minutes - whenever you’re ready.”

“Beam me up, doc.”

“Okay. Three, two, one-” She pressed a button on the Destabilizer, and Sam’s vision was assaulted by light for a few moments.

And then everything went dark.

Everything was completely silent, his quiet, even breaths being the loudest thing in the area. He blinked a few times, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness and failing. It was strange - his surroundings were dark, but he himself seemed to be lit just fine, as if there was a light source coming from above him. Looking up, however, he could only see more darkness. _Well,_ he thought as he looked forward, _No point in wasting time._ Taking a deep breath, he started walking forward.

He continued to walk for what he could only assume was a few minutes. At this rate, he was going to run out of time before he could even start seeing what the whole ‘harsh reality’ thing was about. Unless the reality was he was going to be stuck in this void, walking forever, then- _Wait_ . He stopped in his tracks. _What’s that…?_ With a confused furrow of his brow, he started walking towards the sound-

Then stopped again at the sight of him and Max taking cover behind a metal cabinet that had been knocked over, both of them with guns in hand. While they, along with the cabinet, were slightly hazy but clear enough for Sam to see, the rest of the scene - the interior of the building, what vaguely looked like men with guns - was just blurry enough that he couldn’t make out anything in detail. And yet, he didn’t have to. He already knew exactly what was about to happen - and his eyes widened in fear, finding himself frozen in place and unable to look away.

_“Look at them scurry like puppies from bathwater!” Max said with a large, sharp-toothed grin after taking a shot at the men._

_Sam fired two - no, three - shots off, a smile on his own face. “It’s like my grandma used t’ say when she was electrocuting prisoners, Max-” He reloaded his revolver with an audible click. “‘Crime is an invitation to the crypt’.” His smile faded quickly upon hearing shots being fired, clutching his hat and quickly ducking behind the cabinet. “Ooh, it never occurred t’ me that they might wanna shoot back at us,” he murmured._

_Max, however, was distracted, seeming to be licking at some sticky note that had fallen off of the cabinet when they’d knocked it over. “Y’know, the appeal of this stuff completely escapes me.”_

_“With those semi-automatic weapons and their huge stores of ammo, they shouldn’t be able t- Max!” The dog quickly elbowed Max right in the face, which caused the lagomorph to fall right onto his back. “Pay attention, li’l buddy! D’you want t’ get hurt!?”_

_“Yes please,” Max said, his words sounding a little slurred. While Sam was firing back, he was getting to his feet, his limbs feeling a little weak and his head spinning. He rubbed at one of his temples, his eyes unable to focus. “I feel strangely disoriented.”_

“Please don’t make me watch this…” Sam quietly pleaded to nobody, his face screwed up in a grimace.

_“Sorry I had t’ slug ya’ like that - I was afraid you’d get-” Before he could finish his sentence, several bullets whizzed by both of their heads, the sound of gunfire ringing loudly - but the only sound Sam could hear was the sound of his partner squeaking, falling back onto the ground on his side. “MAX!” Sam shouted in alarm, dropping his revolver to go and lean over the lagomorph, who had now curled up in a ball._

_“Shit-” Max hissed in pain, shutting his eyes tightly and clutching his shoulder. The dog placed a hand over his, feeling Max’s slight trembling - and seeing the dark blood flow freely from his shoulder and down his shoulder blades, pooling on the floor and staining Sam’s fingertips._

__

_“Max,” Sam breathed, his eyes wide with worry. There was more gunfire, and he instinctively lowered himself towards his boyfriend, using his body to shield his. When he pulled back, Max’s eyes were seeming distant. Sam had to end this - now._

_With a furrow of his brows and with a low growl, he grabbed his revolver from the ground and fired several, calculated shots, the men shouting in fear. Some of them fell to the ground to avoid harm - others fell to the ground because they were injured. One man still stood near an open window, and one loud snarl, that man gave a startled cry before accidentally falling backwards out of the window._

_The barrel of his gun was still smoking, and he blew it out before shoving it back in the holster in his jacket. Without hesitation, he hurried back to Max’s now limp form, and gently lifted his head. “Max, speak t’ me,” he begged. The only response he received was a gargled groan. “Keep tryin’ t’ talk t’ me,” he instructed as he started ripping off his tie, beginning to wrap it around Max’s shoulder. There was no response. “C’mon, Max - don’t pass out on me now!” Still no response. “Dammit-” He swiftly tied off the wound as tightly as he could before picking up the lagomorph’s small body and exiting._

And as soon as the other him exited, everything seemed to swirl away like dust in the wind, leaving him once again in the darkness. He felt his body uncease, feeling like he was once again in control of himself. His breathing was a little more quick, his chest feeling as if it was tightening from anxiety.

He remembered all too well about that incident that happened- Jesus, four years ago, just about. They had ended up in a shootout during the case, and...God, it was _his_ fault that Max had gotten shot. If only he hadn't elbowed him...

_I have to keep going_ , he found himself thinking. He swallowed the lump building in his throat, and continued forward. He eventually found himself being forcibly stopped again upon coming by another scene. This time it was him and Max pulling up somewhere in the car. Where, he couldn’t remember nor tell from the way everything was blurred, but he remembered it wasn’t too long after Max had recovered from the original incident.

_“Alright!” Max was fully prepared to leap out of the DeSoto, “Let’s get this party started-”_

_“Uh, actually, Max,” Sam said, placing a hand on the lagomorph’s good shoulder. He was met with a confused look. “I...think you should stay in the car.”_

_Max blinked at his boyfriend, before giving a laugh. “Good one, Sam - ya’ actually had me goin’ for a second.” He kept laughing, but Sam only frowned. Eventually, his laughter faded, his face falling. “...Wait, you serious right now?”_

_“I know you’ve been out for a bit, but-”_

_“Whoawhoa, hang on-” He turned to face Sam directly, forcing the dog to remove his hand. “You’re makin’ me sit this one out!?”_

_“I didn’t say that-”_

_“But that’s what you’re doin’! I-I-I mean, what the hell am I supposed t’ do in the car-”_

_“Look, the last case we were on took a sour turn-” Sam explained calmly._

_“Sam, I’m fine! The doctor said so-”_

_“I’m just tryin’ t’ exercise a li’l caution, okay?”_

_“Uh-uh. No way - y’ can’t keep me here.”_

_“Max-” he attempted to say, but his partner was already opening and shutting the passenger door. He gave a sigh, and exited the car, following after him._

Though most of the scene was blurred just like the other two had been, Sam recognized where it was taking place immediately - the office. He couldn’t remember when this had been, though…

_“Ugh,” Max groaned as he walked past Sam, who was holding the door open for him, and into the office. “Home sweet friggin’ home.” Sam merely hummed in response. While he wordlessly removed his hat to put on the coat rack, Max decided to take a running leap onto their busted up couch, giving a small grunt upon impact. He then leaned back on his elbows and flashed Sam a grin as he was removing his jacket. “Oh, Saaam. Care t’ join me, ya’ big, handsome lug?”_

_The dog chuckled in amusement as he hung up his coat. “I’d sure love to, li’l buddy. But I got paperwork t’ do.”_

_Max’s ears perked, and his smile faded. “‘Paperwork?’” He gave an annoyed groan as he plopped onto his back, throwing his hands up before letting them flop over his midsection. “Sam, we’ve already spent hours on a case that should’ve taken maybe, like, a couple.”_

_“I know.” He walked over to the couch, standing over the lagomorph. “But, y’know, there’s always more work t’ do.”_

_Max gave a light huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems like work’s all y’ want t’ do these days.”_

_Sam gave a small smile, before leaning over to place a kiss right on his boyfriend’s forehead, feeling Max’s ears twitch against the side of his head, his expression shifting to a blank look when the dog pulled away. “I’ll order a pizza. How’s that sound?”_

_“...Sure.”_

As Sam continued walking, he found that he’d stopped freezing up unwillingly. Instead, the scenes were now playing out on either side of him as he walked past, as if he was walking through a museum where the exhibits lit up whenever one walked by them. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop to watch each one - he was still on a time limit, after all (though he wasn’t certain how much time had actually passed. Maybe his time limit had been up a while ago?) - but he still caught bits and pieces as he moved forward.

_“Could you believe what he said about me, Sam!?”_

_“What’d he say?”_

_“How did y’ not hear him? You were standin’ right there!”_

_“Sorry. Guess I wasn’t listening.”_

_“There’s quicker ways t’ do this, Sam.”_

_“I’m just tryin’ t’ be thorough.”_

_“Ya’ sure y’ don’t need me t’ do anything?”_

_“Uh- I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that, but-”_

_“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then. That’s fine. I’ll just be over here.”_

_“Saaam, c’mon, put down the damn pen and come t’ bed!”_

_“Just a minute, Max.”_

_“That’s what ya’ said an hour ag- y’know what, never mind. Good night.”_

_“Those people really thinkin’ I couldn’t hear ‘em.”_

_“...”_

_“...Y’ didn’t hear ‘em, did you.”_

_“Can’t say I was, no.”_

_A sigh. “Whatever. Anyway-”_

_“Lemme slug this jerk already!”_

_“No! He might have useful information-”_

_“He’s full o’ shit!”_

_“I just wanna be sure! Look - just go over there if y’ don’t wanna talk!”_

_“Fine!”_

_“I’m gonna watch some TV, you joinin’ or not.”_

_“Sorry, I-”_

_“Ugh, stop sayin’ sorry. I get it.”_

_“Max-”_

_“Do what ya’ gotta do, Sam. It’s fine.”_

_“One way, dead end...street signs are such fitting metaphors for the human condition.”_

_“Remind me t’ refill your prescriptions”_

_“Now, was all of that really necessary?”_

_“Not sure what you’re talkin’ about, Sam.”_

_“You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. What the hell was all of that with Bliss?”_

_“What? I was just excited t’ meet ‘im! Don’t act so weird.”_

_“Y’know, I’m surprised ya’ didn’t tell Sybil.”_

_“About what?”_

_“About us! In response t’ her sayin’ we were made for each other! Y’ didn’t think t’ say ‘hey, we’re boyfriends?’”_

_“I didn’t think it was that important.”_

_“Not that impor-”_

_“I don’t have t’ announce our relationship t’ everyone we meet, Max.”_

_“So, Sam?”_

_“Mhm?”_

_“About what the, uh...vice me said. Y’know, the one with the tail.”_

_“What about it?”_

_“...Eh, nothin’, actually. It’s not that important.”_

_“You DON’T listen, Sam, nobody ever listens-”_

_“What the hell am I doin’ right now then-”_

_“I’m sleepin’ on the couch-”_

_“Fine, go ahead, see if I care-”_

Each moment he caught felt like another blow directly to his chest, and he eventually found himself slowing to a halt, his legs feeling tired, and his eyes burning as they began to well up. This all felt just so...horrible. Like salt in a fresh wound. Except...that wound wasn’t so fresh after all, but rather it had been scabbed over and torn open time and time again. Because the pain he felt witnessing all of this laid out for him felt far deeper than just watching the rift between him and his lifelong partner grow larger and larger. It felt like a painful, awful realization was being forcefully pulled forward…

_Do you want this to stop?_ he heard a very, very tiny voice - one that didn’t feel like it entirely belonged to him - ask in the back of his head. He lowered his gaze at the question at first, then promptly raised it when light appeared before him. In front of him was the last fight him and Max had before they broke up. The sound was completely absent, but he didn’t need the clear audio to know what was said. He still remembered it well.

...Sam had always blamed himself for that first incident. He’d always told himself that he’d been too reckless, that he’d handled the situation too emotionally - that they wouldn’t have even been in that situation if he’d thought first. And ever since then, he’d tried to change his tune, convinced that it’d protect Max, keep him from ever being harmed like that again. But seeing all of this in front of his eyes…How could he have been so blind? How didn’t he see why Max was slipping further and further from him? How did he never realize that the only person he was protecting was _himself?_ How he’d stopped listening, stopped trying to understand, in an attempt to stay focused on the job, on keeping Max _alive_ but not focusing on keeping him _well_ …

Max was right. He’d always been right.

_The lagomorph stormed past Sam, who leaned away and towards the door. The dog didn’t turn around as he heard it swing open and slam behind him._

“...I did this,” Sam murmured so quietly it would’ve been barely audible if it weren’t the only sound in the area, a tear trailing down his cheek to his jaw. “ _I_ did this. I-I _ruined_ us-” His voice broke, his shoulders beginning to shake as more tears flowed. He watched the scene before him (Just him, standing alone in an empty apartment) scatter and vanish. “Oh God,” he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly, clenching his jaw in an attempt to fight the sobs. But trying to hold them back hurt so _much_ …

He couldn’t take it. He covered his face with his hands and collapsed to the ground onto his knees - and he _cried_. His sobs were loud, and the tears kept running down one after the other down his nose, and he was shaking so hard that it still hurt but God, he couldn’t stop, and he was crying so hard he could barely breathe, and he was coughing between sobs. It was ugly. It was gross.

It was the first time he set his emotions free in a _very_ long time.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there like that, hunched over, arms wrapped around himself. It felt like an eternity. He definitely should’ve been dragged back a long time ago, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care right then. His eyes stung. It hurt to breathe. His nose was clogged. His stomach ached. His _heart_ ached-

And then he found a light shining in front of him, making him instinctively raise his arm to shield his eyes. He gave a wet sniff, trying to even out his breaths as he tried to squint towards the light, blinking to clear his blurred vision - then blinked again in confusion, slowly lowering his arm.

In front of him was a toy robot, and all he could do was sit there on his knees and stare at it. Eventually, though, the eye lit up, and an electronic voice came from it: ‘ **CONGRATULATIONS - YOU HAVE PASSED THE TRIAL! THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER IS NOW IN YOUR POSSESSION. YOU MAY NOW TAKE IT AND RETURN TO YOUR HOME DIMENSION.** ’

Sam continued to stare at it with blank eyes. In the midst of reliving all of that pain, he’d actually forgotten his original goal. But now that he’d reached it...all of this just for some _toy?_ Was this small robot really so powerful and great that it was worth all of this stress?

...He grabbed it. And as soon as he did, it felt like someone had flicked a switch and he was immediately back in Mama Bosco’s lab.

“ _SAM!_ ” Max immediately shouted.

“Oh, Sam-” Mama Bosco said, “Thank goodness you’re alright-”

“What the hell took ya’ so long!?”

“I’m so sorry, I tried to pull you back, I don’t know what happened-”

“We thought we lost ya’! _I_ thought I lost ya’, oh, Sam-”

The lagomorph had been ready to run up to Sam and wrap his arms around him, but Mama Bosco had caught on to the dog’s general unresponsiveness, and placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Wait,” she said quietly.

“What, what’s-”

“Just- give him a minute, Max.”

Max gave her a confused look, then looked at Sam. He was still on his knees, though he had a tight grip on the Destroyer, and he had obvious tear stains trailing his fur, his nose was still running slightly, and...his eyes looked like they were staring a thousand miles away. And as soon as Max saw that distant look, he understood exactly why the scientist advised giving Sam a moment. Dammit - he was worried that something like this would happen-!

“Sam?” Mama Bosco asked gently after a few moments, taking a couple of careful steps towards him and extending a hand to place on his shoulder, though she held back in case touch wasn’t the best thing for him right now. “Are you alright, hon?”

Sam’s eyes seemed to flick this way and that for a moment, though he still wasn’t looking _at_ anything so much as _through_ it. Eventually, he inhaled deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth. “Mm-hm,” he hummed quietly in reply. He got up from his knees and onto his feet, and looked right at Mama Bosco. “I’m okay.”

“Are you _sure_ about that?” Max asked - and didn’t fail to notice how the dog’s gaze fell on him for a split second only for it to avert off to the side.

“Yeah. It’s all good. Um.” He lifted up the toy robot in his hand, looking it over. “I, uh- I got it. The Chthonic Destroyer…” He seemed like he had more to say but decided against it, and simply held it out towards the lagomorph without looking at him.

Max frowned - not hurt by the aversion (okay, maybe a _little_ hurt) but more just concerned - but took the toy from Sam. It seemed like a perfectly normal toy for the most part - some generic thing that one could find at a low-priced toy store. That was until Max pressed a button on it and the eyes immediately lit up red, the voice from the robot saying, ‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER. PLEASE RETURN IT TO THE ONE WHO POSSESSES IT.** ’

“Uhhh, I think it’s sayin’ it belongs t’ _you_ , Sam.” He held it back out for the other to take. Sam hesitated, eyeing the toy warily, but took it anyway.

“It makes sense, I suppose,” Mama Bosco said, readjusting her goggles sitting on her head. “If it’s so grand it was being kept in another dimension, you wouldn’t want just _anyone_ being able to control it.”

“Right. I mean, especially if you’re the Elder Gods - this thing t’ them’s like a shotgun to a duck. Y’ probably _wouldn’t_ want it t’ be used by just _anyone_.”

“...Elder Gods?”

“... _Iiit’s_ a long story. Anyway - Sam, we should probably get goin’ and follow the Dogglegangers.” Sam didn’t respond, and his ears drooped forward slightly.

“I dunno, Max,” the lady said with a slight frown. “Those clones may be long gone by now.”

“Nonsense - I can track ‘em in a jiffy!” Pause. “...Eugh, I really just said ‘jiffy’. Anyway-” He pulled out the toy phone and turned the dial before grabbing onto Sam’s hand (gently. Oh so gently). “Later, Mama Bosco!”

“Be careful, you two!” After the two teleported away, she crossed her arms and gave a sigh. “ _Please_ be more careful…” Her gaze drifted to the floor, then over towards the platform where the unconscious Girl Stinky was still lying. “How to get you down…” she murmured, thinking for a moment before her eyes settled on the nearest cloning chamber.

. . .

The number Max had put in had been Sybil’s office phone. He figured wherever those Sam clones had gone with the DeSoto, they wouldn’t be too far from wherever the rest of the clones would be going. Thankfully, he’d ended up being correct - him and Sam rematerialized across from the DeSoto, which was parked by the wooden rail on the boardwalk they now stood on - which beyond it led to nothing but water and the sight of the Statue of Liberty. They themselves were behind an empty dumpster near a payphone and a newspaper dispenser. In front of them, there was a crowd of the Samulcara entering into what appeared to be a warehouse of some sort, several crates and dumpsters lying on the ground, presumably after having been knocked over. They promptly crouched behind the dumpster

“So _this_ is where they’re hidin’ that Toybox,” Max murmured.

“Guess so. What’re we gonna do once we go in there?”

“Ideally, find the jerk pullin’ the strings, pummel them, then take the Toybox back.”

“Skunkape’s still at large.”

“...Is he? Jesus, it’s been so long since he’s been a pain in our ass, I forgot he’s still out there. Whatever - we’ll figure out what t’ do with him when the time comes- god _dammit_.”

“What is it?”

“I keep gettin’ this _nagging_ in my head, it’s like somethin’s tryin’ t’-” He ended up cutting himself off with a yell upon seeing a doll - a _ventriloquist dummy_ \- lying right next to him. “What the hell!?”

His yelling made Sam look over, leaning back somewhat to get a decent look at the dummy. Black hair, sweater vest, creepy and gangly-looking limbs, glassy eyes - and it appeared chipped and scratched in several places, clearly having gotten quite a fair amount of play time from whatever child played with it. “A dummy?”

“An _ugly_ dummy. Eugh - look at it!”

“I’m lookin’, li’l buddy. Y’ figure it’s a Psychic toy.”

“From the way my brain feels like it’s being jabbed with the blunt end of a fire poker, yes, but…” It felt _off_ . Like, _really_ off. Whereas every toy he’d collected seemed as if it was drawing him closer, this one felt as if it was trying to push him away - as if the toy didn’t want to be picked up anymore than he wanted to pick it up.

“...Y’ think it might be useful?”

Max hesitated, frowning deeply, unable to break his gaze. “Only one way t’ know, I guess,” he eventually said. He carefully outstretched a hand, approaching very cautiously as if the dummy were a shark that would bite his arm off if he moved too fast (though, even a _shark_ would be less scary than this damned thing). Once his hand was close enough, he quickly snatched it up, his hand wrapped around the thing’s torso. He felt the power flow through him, his mind understanding what the toy was meant to do with more clarity than even the Can O’ Nuts, but he could feel his stomach twist as it did so. God, what the hell was _wrong_ with this thing?

“...So?” Sam eventually asked, though his focus returned to the dog clones wandering into the warehouse mindlessly.

“It, er-” He coughed in his fist once. “I think it...I can throw my voice anywhere with it. Like a typical dummy, only a smidgen bit cooler and just as creepy.”

“That could be pretty useful. Could be a way t’ distract these guys, maybe.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He looked over at Sam, and- God, he had that glazed over look in his eyes again. Like he wasn’t _here_ but somewhere else entirely. Max had never quite seen him like this before, and he felt so worried and frustrated that he slapped the dummy down, and said, “Dammit, Sam, could ya’ please just look at me!?” The dog, startled by the sudden outburst, whipped his head towards him with wide, shocked eyes. Max took a moment to recompose himself with a sigh before continuing, more quietly this time, “Seriously, you’re scarin’ me.”

“I-” He squinted and shook his head. “What? I’m not even doin’ anythi-”

“What did ya’ see in there, really?” he asked directly, cutting Sam off only because he didn’t want to hear him _bullshitting_.

Sam turned his attention back towards the warehouse, and said, “Don’t worry about it-”

The lagomorph grabbed ahold of his shoulder with a free hand and forcibly turned him to face him and look him in the eye again. “Yeah, I _am_ worried. Ya’ go in fine, you’re in eighteen minutes longer than y’ should be - and _yes_ , I friggin’ counted - and y’ come out lookin’ like a wife grievin’ ‘er husband that got lost out at seat.” He dropped the toy to place his other hand on Sam’s other shoulder, slightly shaking the dog once as he demanded, “What _happened?_ And don’t tell me you’re okay-”

“What, like you did?”

His ears perked, his nose twitching slightly. Sam didn’t say it as if he were taking a shot, but he couldn’t help feeling like it was such. “...This isn’t about me-”

“Listen, Max - you can’t lie t’ me and not tell me what happened to _you_ , then turn around and demand that _I_ tell you. That’s not how this works.”

“Sam, it’s- I-” he faltered, retracting his hands, feeling a little peeved that the other was turning this around on him, but mostly just _uncomfortable_. “My crap’s more complicated than that-”

“So’s mine.”

“No, you- you don’t understand-”

“Then _help_ me to understand!” The lagomorph was shocked to find Sam grabbing _him_ by his shoulders. “You’ve been tellin’ me I don’t understand, so _help_ me to. I-I mean, I’m _here_ , and I’m _listening_ , and I’m missin’ somethin’, so what is it!?”

“Sam,” he said quietly, lifting up his hands. “It’s just- it’s not that simple, okay?”

“Max,” Sam said, his voice cracking slightly. “I have had my apartment trashed ‘cause a space gorilla’s ship crashed in my front yard. I have revived an alien brain, I have met cultist molemen, I have dragged around your lifeless body and carried around your brain, saw several near-naked versions of _me_ walkin’ around in just one day. I’ve dealt with intergalactic bacteria tryin’ t’ kill me, I’ve dealt with time travel and froze over hell and been a zombie. What the _fuck_ could be goin’ on that’s somehow more complicated than _that?_ ”

Max could only stare blankly in silence, and Sam stared back - and he could see all the desperation in them. He could see that the dog was being serious - that he wanted to know the truth, and wanted to understand, and it was all he’d been silently begging for all of this time, and…

He didn’t want this.

He wanted Sam to understand, but not like this.

The lagomorph silently picked up the dummy, and Sam’s shoulders sagged, understanding immediately that he wasn’t getting an answer out of this. “...Neither of us are ready t’ talk yet,” Max murmured. “And that’s fine. We can try again later-”

“There may not even _be_ a later, you realize that?”

“No, there _will_ be, and we’ll have another go at this, just...not now.” Sam stared at him for a moment before lowering his gaze, dejected, then turning his attention back to the warehouse again. “...Now I’m going to take this- ugh... _toy_ , and I’m goin’ t’ use it t’ get those Samulacra outta there, and then we’re going t’ go in, and we’re gonna get that Toybox.”

“ _IIII_ don’t think _sooo!_ ”

The Freelance Police froze in place at the sound of the high pitched voice, both appearing shocked and wide-eyed. Sam broke the silence with just one question:

“Who said that?”


	13. Charlie Ho-Tep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difference between the world's survival and its destruction lies in Max's hands.

Right after Sam had made that inquiry, the dummy in Max’s hand slowly turned its head 180 degrees, revealing bright purple, almost cat-like eyes. “Hello,  _ folks! _ ” it -  **HE** \- greeted, the once fixed smile on his face now appearing far wider somehow.

Max immediately screamed and flung him down onto the ground, backing right up into Sam, who grabbed onto his shoulders to keep him held close. “What- what the hell!?” Max yelled. The dummy merely laughed at their reactions - the laughter being eerily similar to the fashion possessed Girl Stinky had been laughing in earlier.

Sam glanced towards the warehouse, and with wide eyes immediately stood up, picking Max up with him under the armpits upon seeing the clones rapidly making their way over to them. The duo both looked at them frantically, but Sam eventually looked down at the apparently alive dummy and drew the comparison between  _ his _ eyes and the Dogglegangers. “You’re the one doin’ this.”

“Ding-ding-ding!” the dummy replied cheerfully. One of the clones leaned down and picked him up, and as soon as he did, the dummy seemed much more lively, moving as if he were a regular person. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually!”

“Who the hell are you!?” Max demanded.

The dummy interlocked his creepily long fingers together and placed them under his chin, batting his eyelids. “Charlie Ho-Tep - at your service!” He then extended a hand. “How d’you do?” The action had prompted the lagomorph to lean further back towards Sam, clutching one hand on his shirt collar, wishing to get as far away from the living dummy as possible. Charlie gave an offended huff, retracting it only to cross his arms, shutting his eyes and turning his head away in annoyance. “How  _ rude! _ ”

Both of them noticed the clones beginning to form a circle and close in on them, making an easy escape more and more unlikely by the second. “Uh- pardon my friend here,” Sam spoke up quickly. “He’s not really a fan of-” He noticed the dummy shoot open one glowing eye, as if waiting for another offensive comment to come his way. Sam immediately reconsidered his words, and said, “I mean, he was-  _ both _ of us, actually- we’re  _ really _ shocked t’ see ya’, that’s all.”

Charlie hummed, sounding somewhat doubtful, but, after eyeing both of their nervous expressions, he smiled again, placing a hand on his chest as he said, “I  _ do _ know how to make a reveal, don’t I?”

“Yeah!” he agreed, nodding with a nervous smile. “Certainly. One of the best - ain’t that right, li’l buddy?”

Max gave him a look that  _ clearly _ questioned why the hell he was buttering this little creep up, but Sam looked him in the eye, then flickered his gaze slightly lower for a second, then back to him. It took Max a moment, but as soon as he caught on, his ears straightened, and he found himself forcing a grin, looking at the dummy and nodding. “Oh,  _ yeah _ . Most of our other reveals are so,  _ so _ lame. Yours is definitely a breath of fresh air!”

“Why, thank you!” Charlie kicked his feet up and crossed one leg over the other knee, tilting his head to the side. “This is the part where I reveal my master plan, right? Sorry if that sounds unprofessional - I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“No, you’re completely right,” Sam said with a nod. “Please, by all means.”

The dummy clapped his hands. “Oh,  _ goody! _ Well, let’s start from the beginning.”

“Take as much time as ya’ need. We got time.” He eyed Max again, who began to watch Charlie attentively.

“It all started the day I was first awoken. I remember coming into the world confused, naive - dare I say even  _ innocent? _ ”

“Yeah, right,” Max murmured. Charlie flashed him a rather menacing glare, and he immediately said, “Uh- I mean- right! Of course - we totally understand.”

Seeming satisfied with the response, Charlie’s reminiscing smile returned as he continued. “I met my very first - and very  _ best _ friend that day: Junior. Him and I, we were- how does your physical realm saying go? ‘Two peas in a pod’. Inseparable! We had so much fun, and played so many pranks…”

“So you were one of the toys from the Devil’s Toybox?” Sam asked the now distracted dummy, eyeing Max again, who slowly started slipping a free hand into the inside of the jacket - and quickly retracted it when Charlie looked directly at them again.

“I was! I was Junior’s favourite, but…” His gaze lowered, his smile fading and brows furrowing. “...When everyone left, I got left behind. And I’ve been stuck here for centuries ever since.” The other two were silent, the lagomorph preoccupied with carefully attempting to remove the toy telephone from the inside of the oversized jacket. Charlie shut his eyes as he continued, “I’ve missed him so much...I’ve waited everyday for him to come back, but he never did.”

Sam couldn’t help but frown at the story, and although Max had already gotten ahold of the toy in the jacket, he gave him a slight shake of his head. Max blinked at him, baffled, but paused in his action anyway.

“I got tired of waiting, so I escaped that wretched Toybox and came up with an  _ awesome _ plan to bring Junior back here from the Dark Dimension so that we could have fun and play pranks again!” He crossed his arms. “‘Course, the plan required the sacrifice of a thousand and one souls-” At that statement, Sam and Max exchanged a glance, to which Sam still frowned but ended up nodding, allowing Max to continue his retrieving of the telephone. “-Which was so  _ hard _ to do back in those days. You mortals have a stronger survival instinct than I thought - didn’t matter how strong of a control I had, I could never push any of you to give up your lives.”

“I’m guessin’ this is where all the half-naked  _ me _ clones come in?” Sam inquired, keeping a careful eye while Max removed the telephone from the jacket.

“Bingo!” Thankfully for the Freelance Police, the clone holding Charlie turned around, making it so Charlie’s back was facing them. The dummy was looking at the clones, and continued his explanation. “Thanks to that kind lady’s cloning machines, I was able to generate all of  _ these _ fellas!” He spread out his arms, gesturing to the many clones that were simply standing in place, their expressions as empty as ever. “Just  _ look _ at ‘em - not a single thought in any of their empty heads. They’ll throw away their lives without a single care in the world! They’re  _ perfect _ for the job!”

Max frowned deeply at the dummy vaguely insulting the clones’ intelligence, but continued to fiddle with the toy telephone, now turning the dial for Sal’s job’s number that they’d gotten earlier. “Why  _ me _ , though?” Sam inquired, trying to keep Charlie distracted for just a little bit longer until they could make a proper escape.

“Eh, it was mostly coincidence,” Charlie replied casually. “I mean, I just sorta found your fur casually  _ lying _ around and figured it’d be better than trying to pluck hairs myself. Though, I do wonder if your being a dog was a lucky thing…”

“Okay, that’s it,” Max announced, his frustration spiking again at that last statement, which caused the dummy to whip around to look at him, his eyes widening at the sight of the phone. “We’re  _ outta here! _ ” He promptly removed the phone from the receiver and put it to his ear, completely prepared to whisk him and Sam away to a safer spot-

Only for the payphone to simply ring.

Both the lagomorph and dog blinked. Max promptly put the phone back, turned the dial again and put the phone to his ear again. The payphone rang again. They already  _ were _ at Sal’s job location. “...Oh, shit,” Sam muttered, ears falling back a bit.

“You…” Charlie said quietly, his voice trembling with anger and then rising in volume, “How  _ DARE _ you!? You weren’t even listening at  _ all _ , were you!?”

“No!” Max tried to say quickly, shaking his head. “No, we  _ were _ listening-”

“You didn’t even  _ CARE! _ You stupid mortals, you’re all the  _ SAME! _ Selfish, self-centered - you only care about yourselves! You’re just like  _ him! _ ”

“Just like who?” Sam attempted to ask, “Who’re y-”

“Sam, use the thing!  _ NOW! _ ”

“What!? But-”

“Just  _ do it! _ ”

Knowing there wasn’t any time to hesitate, Sam promptly took out the Chthonic Destroyer, holding it out towards Charlie and the various Sam clones - and then with one angered growl from the dummy, followed by a brief flash in his eyes, Sam found his windpipe tightening suddenly. He ended up dropping both the robot and Max, who grunted upon hitting the ground, but immediately looked back up at Sam with wide, concerned eyes. “ **_SAM!_ ** ” The dog stumbled backwards and clutched at his face, a mix of whines and strangled breaths escaping him as his eyes began to flicker purple. He looked at the Destroyer lying next to him, and attempted to reach for it - and gave a yell as he was suddenly yanked off of the ground by a clone.

Charlie looked at the Chthonic Destroyer and hummed. “I haven’t seen this in so many years…” 

The clone holding him approached it, leaning over and picking it up. At once, the robot’s eyes lit up and said again, ‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER. PLEASE RETURN IT TO THE ONE WHO POSSESSES IT.** ’ 

“Interesting…” The dummy’s attention turned to the original Sam, who had now been reduced to the same mindless state as every single one of his clones. After a brief moment of thought, he had the clone holding him hand both him  _ and _ the Destroyer over to Sam, who took him without hesitation simply because Charlie willed him to. “This could be useful.  _ Very _ useful…”

“Let him  _ go _ , you sick li’l bastard!” Max shoutted, struggling against the grip of the clone restraining him.

Charlie  _ tsked _ , wagging a finger at him. “Language.”

“ _ English _ and  _ Spanish _ , asshole, now let him  _ GO! _ ”

“Mm. No. No, I don’t think I will.”

There was something about the way Charlie was eyeing him so carefully - as if he could somehow see every atom, every molecule, every tiny  _ piece _ of his very spirit - that made Max uneasy, and for some reason prompted him to say, “Ya’ can’t brainwash me like ya’ did these guys. My brain is  _ not _ free real estate. That’s not t’ say Sam’s is either, but-”

“Oh, no. I know I can’t. Psychic brains are  _ definitely _ off limits for me. Which is why I’m doing this to you instead.”

Before Max even had a chance to fully realize what was about to happen, there was another clone knocking him out cold with his fist.

. . .

Girl Stinky groaned quietly, her eyelids struggling to flutter open. She absentmindedly attempted to sit herself up only to realize she was actually being carried. Given that all she saw through her blurred vision was brown, she found herself murmuring groggily, “Sal…?” 

There was the sound of a  _ click _ , and the person holding her took a few steps forward before stopping. She put the heel of her hand to her forehead and blinked a few more times, and her vision finally cleared enough to see that it was  _ not _ Sal, but one of those other Sams. She blinked again, this time in shock, before giving an annoyed yell, which seemed to surprise the clone.

“Get your furry mitts  _ off _ of me!” She swiftly swung her legs around and got to her feet, shoving a hand into the dog’s chest with a surprising amount of strength, making him stumble back with a startled yelp.

“Whoa, hey-” a female voice said behind her, making Stinky whip around to see a lady wearing casual clothing with a lab coat over it. “I would appreciate it if you kept your hands  _ off _ of him, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well that makes  _ two _ of us,” she shot back, giving an icy glare towards the slightly cowering clone, which eased up upon actually looking at him. Odd - none of the clones showed any fear even with a literal gun pointed at their heads. And his eyes were… “What the hell’s wrong with this one?”

“More like what  _ isn’t _ wrong,” Mama Bosco replied. As she continued, she walked past the other lady to place a hand on the Sam clone’s shoulder, “Unlike all the other guys, this one’s completely dark magic-free. Made him just to get you off of that platform over there.” She nodded in the direction of it.

Stinky gave the platform a confused look, then shook her head and returned her attention back to the scientist. “I’m sorry - who are you?”

“Oh, that’s right, we’ve never officially met.” She extended a gloved hand. “Folks call me Mama Bosco. Not a nickname you’d expect to stick, I know, but-”

“Right,” Stinky interrupted, crossing her arms, which made Mama Bosco retract her hand. “Mama. Got it.” Her eyes started glancing around again, her expression shifting upon noticing something. “...Wait, where’s Sal?” she questioned. She noticed the other lady’s face fall, a frown on her face. “Well? Where  _ is _ he?”

“...I’m trying to find a way to go down and get to him-” she started explaining.

“That’s not what I’m  _ asking _ ,” Stinky interrupted again, panic beginning to rise in her chest.

“I didn’t see it happen, but he wasn’t on the platform and I didn’t see him use the elevator to come back from it-”

Stinky’s eyes widened, and she shook her head slightly. It was coming back to her now vaguely - suddenly losing control of herself, going onto that platform, swinging that glass shut while Sal was- oh God, no...no, no, this couldn’t have been happening-!

Mama Bosco, recognizing her distress, put her hands up in an attempt of a calming gesture, and said, “I know it sounds bad, but maybe he’s-”

Stinky didn’t even wait for her to finish. She turned around and began storming off towards one of the tunnels - the one that led directly up to the diner. When she emerged from the tunnel entrance, her ‘grandfather’ was counting the ammo he had left for his shotgun, though his attention went to her as soon as she came up. “Those flea-bitten mongrels are gone. And ye just missed that dafty detective.” She stopped in her tracks, her eyes seeming distant, but the old man didn’t seem to notice. “‘E was askin’ me aboot a fog machine and A.V. equipment- what the hell were ye thinkin’, puttin’ that shite down there? I told ye t’ get rid of-”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He blinked at the sudden, harsh response, but furrowed his brows, pushing aside the ammo with his arm before leaning it on the counter. “What’re ye on aboot now?”

She snapped her head towards him, glaring daggers at him, the rage from before returning and rising in her chest rapidly. “Was it worth it? Kicking Sal out behind my back?”

“Ah, we’re back on this, are we-”

“You’re  _ damn right _ we are.” She stormed right over to the counter, slamming her hands onto the counter’s surface so her and Grandpa Stinky’s faces were very close. “Now answer my damn question - was it  _ worth _ it?”

“Of  _ course _ it was worth it! Ye think Ah’d  _ regret _ kickin’ out that filth infested-”

“You’re the only  _ filth infested _ thing here,  _ old man! _ He was my  _ friend! _ ”

“He got  _ fired _ \- he didn’t  _ die _ , ye crazed-”

“ _ Yes. _ He.  _ Did _ .” A silence fell in the diner, and Grandpa Stinky’s expression shifted ever so slightly, clearly not expecting her to say that. “...What? Got nothing to say now!?” He still said nothing, and she slowly shook her head. “You really are just a piece of shit. If he’d had been in the diner with us tonight, he’d have been  _ safe! _ If you hadn’t friggin’  _ fired him _ behind my  _ BACK _ -” She grabbed ahold of his shirt collar, yanking him forward slightly, “- _ HE’D STILL BE OKAY! _ ”

The elderly man only looked into those teal eyes that practically glowed in the dark of the diner, seeing every bit of fury in them. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead on the spot. But she certainly didn’t need that to take his life - he knew that all too well. “...What are ye gonna do aboot it, then?” he dared to ask, as calm as a man of his nature could possibly be.

Her glare hardly let up, but there was a flicker of thought in those eyes. Eventually, she shoved him back - nowhere near as roughly as she could have or deeply wanted to - and took one step back, looking at him for a moment, before heading for the back exit. She wasn’t particularly in the  _ mood _ to step over a bunch of clone corpses.

She soon found herself stepping out into the empty street, the night air feeling cool on her skin. She was deeply upset yet externally she appeared nothing less than numb. She knew  _ exactly _ what she wanted to do about the current situation, but not  _ how _ …

She paused for a moment upon hearing a distant noise, her brows knitting together in confusion. Was that an...engine? She looked up but saw nothing at first, though out of her curiosity - and partial realization as to what it could be - she continued down the street, following the sound until eventually she found the source of it in the distance: that same gorilla-like spaceship that she’d found herself walking onto earlier, only for it to crash since that space gorilla guy had flown out of it. Now, it seemed, despite its visible damages, it was at least hovering slightly off of the ground. She wasn’t sure if it was thanks to Skun-ka’pe himself or one of his goons.

But she sure as hell was going to find out.

. . .

~~ Wake up. ~~

~~ Wake up  _ now _ . ~~

The lagomorph’s eyes shot right open, looking right up at the night sky - and seeing the Statue of Liberty towering over him, a purple glow in the distance. With a small gasp, he sat up, seeing the lumbering clones entering the statue’s base as he got to his feet and whipped around to look straight up. It was hard to see with everything so high up, but he could make out the sight of Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth locked in a cage, hanging over a ninety-three metre drop, several clones falling directly into that purple light, a silhouette in the middle of it (though what it was, he couldn’t tell), what seemed to be a piano with that damn  _ dummy _ playing loudly what he could only say was a ragtime song, and-

“Sam?” he asked quietly, his eyes then widening upon recalling what happened prior to him being knocked out, and shouted, “ _ SAM! _ ”

Sam was currently holding up Charlie in one hand, holding the Chthonic Destroyer in the other, his expression as empty as ever. And as soon as Max’s voice reached them, Charlie gave a small, delighted gasp, turning his head to Sam and saying, “Do ya’ hear that, boy? He’s awake!” The dog, of course, did not respond. The dummy then leaned over to look all the way down at Max, and called out, “ _ Goood _ evening, furry li’l pal! Glad y’ could be conscious for the show!”

“What the hell are ya’ doin’ with my best friend, Ho-Tep!?”

“Why, isn’t it obvious? Good ol’ Samuel here’s helpin’ me with my spell!” He looked over his shoulder at the caged Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth, and added in a mutter, “And makin’ sure  _ you _ two don’t try anything  _ stupid _ .”

“Charlie,” Yog-Soggoth pleaded, “Please, listen-”

“Shut it, gramps!” he snapped, before turning his attention back to the lagomorph, his cheery yet sinister demeanour returning. “Soon,  _ my _ bestest best friend in the whole wide universe,  _ Junior _ , will be walking among you rotting meat sacks again! And once he does-” He gave an excited laugh. “We’ll have  _ sooo _ much fun!”

“Not if  _ I _ have anything to-” Max started yelling back, digging a hand into the coat he was still wearing only to pause, pat himself down and realize that the toys he’d once had were now missing. “Hey - where’d the toys go!?”

“Sorry, Bugs - I had t’ put ‘em back in the Toybox where they belong! I  _ need _ them in order for my spell to work! But don’t worry - maybe Junior will be nice enough to share if he doesn’t  _ squeeze your little head until it POPS first! _ ”

Max gave a loud, frustrated groan. Forget about friggin’  _ Junior _ coming in and destroying the physical realm as he knew it - Sam was in trouble, and he couldn’t even help him! He stomped his foot in his aggravation, putting sleeved-covered hands on his hips, and looking over at the clones that continued to march- wait...He looked down at the jacket, then back at the clones, then recalled how Sam would always send him flying into the air any time he got too close…

Without hesitation, he finally tore off the coat from his person, looking up with a determined expression and yelling at the top of his lungs, “ _ HANG ON, SAM - I’M COMIN’ T’ GET YA’! _ ” He twisted the coat in his hands, pulling it taut in his hands once before turning towards the clones.

Charlie raised a brow. “Is he  _ really _ going to try this?”

Max paused for a moment, mentally preparing himself, before running straight into the single file line of Samulacra, planting his feet right in front of one - and giving a loud ‘ _ Wheee! _ ’ as he was backhanded and sent flying upwards. As he zoomed straight up, he extended his arms and held out the coat in front of him, intending to use it to hopefully hook onto  _ some _ part of this statue. The good news was he did get hooked right onto one of the spikes of Lady Liberty’s crown. The bad news was the tip of the spike actually put a big tear right into Sam’s coat. “Aw!” Max groaned with a frown, glancing right in front of him where Charlie and Sam both sat, beyond the bright purple light (what  _ was _ that in there - some sorta weird, squishy fetus thing?). “Sorry, Sam! I’ll get ya’ a new one - promise!”

“Aw, isn’t that nice?” Charlie cooed, his tone soon switching to stern as he proceeded to instruct one of the nearing clones, “Get ‘im off o’ there!”

“What?” Max said with a raised brow, then saw one of the clones switch his course and start approaching him. His eyes widened in realization. “Wait, nononO, DON’T DO IT Y-” The dog clone had bent down and physically shoved him off, sending Max down, screaming before grunting loudly as he made impact with the statue’s tabula ansata.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Charlie said with a feigned wince. “That’s gotta hurt!” He looked at Sam. “Think he’ll make it back up?” There was no response, yet the dummy laughed as if he did. “Oh, your pathetic pleads are so  _ funny _ , Sam!”

“Max will never make it up here so long as he’s paying attention,” Papierwaite murmured to his eldritch companion.

“I had no idea Charlie was even capable of this,” Yog-Soggoth murmured in return. “Not on this scale anyway-”

The dummy’s head suddenly turned 180 degrees, looking directly at Yog-Soggoth. “What’re you two  _ mumbling _ about back there?”

Before he replied, him and Papierwaite shared but one thought;  _ Keep him distracted. Buy Max time. _ “Charlie, please - let us talk about this for but a moment-”

“ _ No! _ ” he yelled as defiantly as any child would. “You had  _ aaaall _ the chances t’ talk to me all of those years ago, and  _ now _ you wanna talk when I’m ready to bring Junior back into this realm!? Uh-uh! No way!”

“Bringing Junior in here is not as well thought-out of an idea as you think, Charlie!” the creature attempted to reason. “It’s more dangerous than you realize-”

“I’ve spent  _ centuries _ planning this, you old  _ fart _ \- don’t tell  _ me _ that my plan isn’t  _ thought-out! _ ”

“You are not listening to  _ reason _ .”

Charlie ignored it, his eyes darting off to the side, his voice lowering to a murmur as he started rambling bitterly, “You never  _ did _ like me. You always found me  _ annoying _ . You never said it, but I could always hear it in your tone. You never  _ liked _ me being around Junior-”

“Charlie, that is  _ not _ true! I understand you’re upset-”

His cat-like eyes snapped back to the creature. “Upset? _UPSET!?_ **_YOU LEFT ME BEHIND TO ROT!_** ”

“No, I swear, I would never-”

While the one-sided argument continued, Max was attempting to climb the statue again but couldn’t get a firm enough grip. In fact, he was pretty sure he slipped a little further down than when he’d initially fallen. He sighed heavily in annoyance at both his severe lack of progress and the argument going on above. Seriously, when were those two going to shut  _ up!? _

_ Max. _ He flinched at the sudden voice intruding his head.  _ Max, can you hear me? _

“...God?” he questioned, looking up.

It was Papierwaite’s voice, actually, using Yog-Soggoth’s abilities through their symbiosis to transfer his thoughts to the lagomorph.  _ Listen to me - Yog-Soggoth is distracting Charlie, but he cannot keep it up forever. And since you seem to be struggling- _

“I’m not struggling, but go on.”

_ -I am going to give you something that is going to help you greatly. _

“Is it a rope? Because a rope would be nice-” He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widening as far as they could go. The edges of his vision blurred and shimmered, his brain suddenly going a hundred miles per hour. Every toy he’d had, every toy he would never hold,  _ every _ one, every  _ single one _ he knew how to use now. He knew how to use them, and he knew how to use them  _ without _ their physical presence. Max would’ve clutched his head if he didn’t have such a large drop. “What-” He had to take a moment to catch his breath. “What did you just-?”

_ As a fresh Psychic, your own mind was holding you back. Like...training wheels on a bike, we will say. We have simply removed them. _

“So I can- I…”

_ You can do whatever you must. And I insist that you do. And quickly. _

Max didn’t respond, more focused on trying not to feel like his head was about to explode. This was... _ very _ overwhelming. But he knew he had to focus, else he’d never be able to get up there and help Sam. Focus,  _ focus _ . Help Sam -  _ help Sam-! _

Before he even fully realized what he was doing, he found himself teleporting right on top of the closed Toybox that rested on Charlie Ho-Tep’s piano, vaguely hearing the sound of Sam’s phone ringing in his pocket. The dummy immediately turned his head to look at the still glowing lagomorph, his eyes wide for a moment before his face contorted in anger, slamming his hands on the keys. “Ugh! You don’t know when t’  _ beat it _ , do ya’!?”

Ignoring the absolute throbbing pain in his head, Max shot a glare at him. “Listen pal, I’ve had a long ass freakin’ day - so just cut your bullshit, give me back my goddamn friend and get back in the Toybox where you belong so we can call it a night.”

The dummy huffed. “You think you  _ scare _ me?” Without warning, Charlie - through Sam, of course - whacked Max right off of the Toybox. Although by all means the lagomorph should’ve fell right onto his back, he found himself actually  _ levitating _ instead. The enthralled Sam stood up, and Charlie yelled, “You’re not the  _ only _ one who can use the toys,  _ dummy! _ ”

“Who the hell are you callin’  _ dummy!? _ ” Max yelled back. He watched as the Destroyer was set aside and the Toybox was swung open, and out was pulled the Rhinoplasty. Although mildly alarmed by having a toy used against him, he felt more rage at the fact that Charlie was now using its power through Sam - especially since Charlie’s purple aura made it so the energy could be seen flowing through Sam’s veins. “Hey, hey-  _ stop that! _ ” He had his fists clenched, prepared to start physically fighting (though he held only because he didn’t wish to hurt Sam), and watched as light formed around Charlie, turning him into a bazooka. “Oh, no-” He gave a half-startled yell as the weapon fired, just barely missing him as well as what he assumed was some small part of Junior, and instead crashing into one of the clones, knocking him off of the statue.

The rocket that was now Charlie turned around, shouting “Hold  _ still! _ ” as he aimed for Max once again. Fearing more for Sam’s safety than his own, Max promptly grabbed the dog by the shoulders and ducked the both of them down. As a result, the dummy-turned-bazooka missile crashed into the forcefully construct that was holding up the cage holding Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth, sending them both falling, the man giving a frightened yell as he did so. Max cussed under his breath, and, figuring he could at least be courteous enough to make their fall as least painful as possible, dug into the Toybox himself to pull out the Can O’ Nuts, chucking it down at them with a grunt. As soon as it made contact with the bars, the whole cage vanished within it, and the can continued to descend.

Max turned around to face Sam again, only to find him briefly surrounded by light as Charlie returned to his original form, the dog standing back up with him in his hand. Even though Sam had only been holding onto the Rhinoplasty for less than a minute, Max could already see his nose starting to bleed again. “C’mon, Charlie,” he said sternly, his brows furrowed. “I don’t wanna have t’ hurt ya’, but I can’t let ya’ abuse Sam. Seriously - look at what you’re doin’ to ‘im!”

Charlie put one finger on his cheek while supporting his arm with his opposite hand at the elbow, shaking his head with a smug smile. “It’s so adorable that you think I care.” Sam extended his arm and dropped the red plastic thing straight back into the Toybox, then proceeded to dig his hand in it again. “I don’t think you realize that I’m perfectly fine with using your furry pal here until he’s coughing up blood and suffering organ failure if it means bringing  _ my Junior back! _ ” Sam pulled out a slingshot of some sort, and held it up while Charlie pulled it back and released it several times, firing off invisible ammo.

The Psychic lagomorph promptly grabbed a toy shield. As soon as it was in his grip, he held it up defensively, the invisible slingshot ammo impacting it harshly and sending him back into the air again. The styrofoam shield hadn’t been damaged at all, however, for it was indestructible. “C’mon, kid!” Max called as he continued to guard himself from the onslaught. “I know you’re not  _ that _ cruel - you’re hurt and pissed off, and you wanna take it out on the whole damn world, I get it-”

“You don’t get  _ anything! _ ” he shouted angrily, throwing down the slingshot down onto the ground. “You don’t know me!” Charlie made Sam dig out a white boxing glove, which as soon as it was handed to the dummy and he put it on, it glowed bright purple. “You don’t understand me  _ at all!  _ **_Nobody_ ** _ does except for  _ **_Junior_ ** _! _ ”

Damn, now he was understanding how he must’ve sounded to Sam. “That’s not true, Charli-” The dummy started yelling at the top of his lungs and was thrown by Sam directly at Max. The lagomorph quickly ducked out of the way again, using the shield to redirect Charlie away from him, causing the dummy to go flying a few feet away from him before stopping in mid-air. “I know feelin’ lonely sucks, alright!? And feelin’ left behind’s even worse, and I totally get wantin’ revenge and that’s  _ fine _ , but ya’ can’t drag innocent people down just because you’re mad-”

The dummy growled in frustration, his boxing gloved hand clenching, the glove making a sound as it began buzzing with energy. His voice sounded heavily distorted as he shouted, “Shut up,  _ SHUT UP,  _ **_SHUT U̴̷P̨͜͡!͏̶_ ** ” He shot down towards Max, and Max only had a split second to protect himself with the shield again as the boxing glove impacted it with a concussive amount of force.

He couldn’t help but yell in some fear as he started flying back fast. He only had a mere moment to look back, see he was headed straight for that weird purple light the clones were thoughtlessly throwing themselves into, and shift the position of the shield so it was protecting his back instead. Mere milliseconds after doing that, he crashed directly into the light and into the strange fleshy thing that supposedly was Junior, the stone beneath him cracking loudly as he landed. The light fizzled out, and any trace of the young Elder God was now gone.

As soon as Charlie realized what had happened, his eyes widened. “No...No!  _ You made me mess UP!  _ **_NOW I HAVE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN!_ ** ”

“Kid,” Max said, out of breath, as he slowly sat himself up painfully, “I dunno how familiar you are with 70s child stars, but that is one of three equally terrible things you could’ve sai-” He was interrupted by Charlie flying at him, once again only having a moment to protect himself before the dummy quite literally sent him right through the ground, disappearing into the statue for a moment only to shoot out of another part of it. He didn’t even have a chance to fully recover before Charlie started coming at him again.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the moment Charlie had realized he had accidentally wrecked his own plan, the trance he’d had all of the clones and Sam under had stopped immediately, his attention having been diverted enough to free them. And as soon as it was lifted, Sam blinked hard, shaking his head vigorously to get rid of the foggy feeling in his mind, putting a hand to his head with a groan.  _ God _ , he felt like absolute  _ shit _ \- his whole body was aching, but especially his head and chest, and- dammit, his nose was bleeding again. As he wiped it off, he overheard the clones giving confused whines, brushing it off as nothing at first until he noticed they were looking at something - the  _ something _ being Charlie still assaulting Max.

“Max-!” he whispered in alarm. He continued to watch, and could see that his li’l buddy wasn’t exactly winning the fight right now. Dammit - he couldn’t help him when he was all the way over there! He glanced around, then noticed the Chthonic Destroyer lying where Junior’s summoning spot had been, having been knocked over upon Max crashing into the statue. His gaze turned from it to the opened Toybox sitting next to him on the piano. Maybe he  _ could _ still help, after all. With that, he started cautiously making his way over.

“Why won’t you just  **_DIE_ ** already!?” Charlie screeched, swinging once again at Max and impacting again, sending the lagomorph flying into the statue again.

Max wanted to say ‘Wish I could tell ya’’, but all that came out was a groan of pain and a wet cough, blood droplets flying from his mouth. He couldn’t keep this up for too much longer, he knew, and he also knew that while dying during a fight using his Psychic abilities would’ve been a pretty cool way to go, the part about him getting killed by a ventriloquist dummy kinda put a damper on it. Said dummy was now descending on him again, but Max extended a hand and said wheezily, “Wait, wait-  _ please _ just listen t’ me.”

“Why  _ should _ I!?” Charlie demanded, shooting a nasty glare at him. “You didn’t even bother t’ listen to  _ me _ when I was pouring my darn  _ heart out! _ ” He was pulling his fist back again, ready to attack.

Max waved his extended hand frantically and said, “I  _ was _ listening. I-I was, okay? An’ I’m so,  _ so _ serious when I tell ya’ I get it.”

“How could you? You didn’t have to wait in a toybox for hundreds of years! You didn’t have to spend  _ centuries _ waiting for someone to come and get you, only for them t’ never come!”

“You’re right, I didn’t. But I know what it’s like t’ feel isolated and alone-”

“No you don’t! You actually  _ have _ someone with you t’ call your best friend!  _ My _ best friend is still in the darn  _ Dark Dimension! _ ”

“...Y’know, surprisingly, it doesn’t always feel like he’s with me. Sometimes it feels like there’s a brick wall between us, and neither of us can go around it t’ get to each other.” The dummy’s expression shifted, his brows raising slightly, though he still seemed angered and wary. Max took a deep breath through his nose, trying to ignore the sharp pain that came with it, and continued, “And I get it’s easier t’ get mad about it, and that’s fine. But y’ really  _ can’t _ hurt people just ‘cause you’re hurting. It never leads t’ anything good. I’ve learned that the hard way.” Charlie frowned, his gaze averting to the side. Max decided to test his luck and slowly approach him, his hand still extended forward. Eventually, he placed that hand on the dummy’s shoulder - the one that wasn’t for the arm with the boxing glove. “I know we just met,” he said, “But I mean it when I say right now that I wanna try t’ help ya’.”

Charlie’s gaze remained lowered, the glow of his eyes dimming for a moment...and then his brows furrowed and he glowered at Max, his eyes shining brighter than they were before. “ **And I meant it when I said I want** **_Junior_ ** .”

Max felt a literal punch to his gut, conveniently protected by the shield, and was sent straight upwards. From the sheer shock of the incredibly close impact, he found that the shield slipped from his grip, falling downwards while he kept flying up. He eventually found himself slowing to a halt, remaining levitating in the air. In a swift movement, Charlie was once again flying past him until he was floating over him, rearing back his fist to strike. Max knew if he brought it down it would kill him, but he was so weakened from all of those other blows…

“ **Any last words,C̴̴̷͞o͘҉n̷̨e̴̶͝j̷͝o͝?** ”

“...You don’t have t’ do this.”

“ **Yes. Yes, I do.** ” He moved to strike his fist down, and the lagomorph shut his eyes, bracing for the impact - only for the boxing glove to vanish from Charlie’s hand, resulting in Max blinking his eyes open in confusion upon feeling only a small wooden hand impact his stomach. “ **_What!?_ ** ” the dummy yelled shrilly, looking at his ungloved hand before both him and Max noticed the bright yellow glow in the corner of their visions, making them look over.

Surely enough, Sam had ahold of the Chthonic Destroyer, which was shooting a bright red beam right at the Toybox. The Devil’s Toybox was beginning to crack, light peeking through.

“ **No...NO!** ” The dummy was prepared to possess Sam again, but stopped upon seeing his form also begin to vanish.

“Oh no,” Max murmured, his eyes wide with horror and shaking his head. “Oh  _ no- _ ”

“ **THIS ISN’T** **_FAIR!_ ** ” Charlie cried, only continuing to fade away. “ **WHY DOES HE GET TO SAVE HIS FRIEND AND I DON’T!? I̷̛͜T̶͞'̢̡͠S̴͢͝ ̨N̵̢͢͡O̢͘͞T̕͘̕͟ ̕̕F̡͡A̷̕I̛R͡͏̴̷͞!̴̡̛** ”

“Charlie-!” Max found himself calling, attempting to reach out to the kid that was being wiped from existence before his very eyes - and soon found himself being blinded from the light that suddenly exploded outwards, sending him flying down.

Sam had looked up during Charlie’s shouting, and his ears perked forward and his eyes widened upon seeing Max come crashing down suddenly. “ _ MAX! _ ” He dropped the Destroyer at once and found himself quickly outstretching his arms. Only a moment or two later, the lagomorph was dropping right into his arms, his form weak and no longer glowing like it had been. “Are you okay, li’l-” His question was interrupted upon hearing the cracking behind him, and he looked over his shoulder just in time to see the Toybox continuing to split open, growing brighter and brighter, and immediately crouched over, protecting Max with his whole body, as it exploded, knocking the dog onto his side with a grunt. Both him and Max lifted their heads to watch as gold dust and mist drifted from where the Toybox had once remained, floating along the night breeze. Sam sat up with the lagomorph still in his arms, and the both of them watched it, the dust settling gently on their fur before Max exhaled and moved to wrap his arms around Sam’s neck, who returned the gesture with a hug. “...You okay?”

“...I wish I could’ve helped him,” Max murmured quietly, his ears falling back limply against his head.

Sam frowned, rubbing a hand on his back. “I’m sorry. I had to, he was-”

“I  _ know _ , Sam. I just...really wish it didn’t have t’ be like that…” He remained in his position, finding his hand trailing up the back of Sam’s neck. He could just barely feel the traces of the veins that had been once glowing from under the dog’s skin. He pulled away, ignoring the ache in his own muscles, and placed his hands on both of Sam’s cheeks, making him blink. “Are  _ you _ alright? You seemed like you were in a bit of a rough shape.”

“Eh, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt or anything.” Max gave a slight huff through his nose, not entirely believing his claims, but gave a slight smile anyway, which Sam gladly returned, before looking up at the dust and the mist - the latter of which was beginning to fall over them. “I always find it amazing how destruction can look so pretty sometimes.”

“Yeah, ya’ really did a number on that thing. Guess that just means we won’t have t’ worry about anyone misusin’ it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.” His gaze lingered for a moment, then slowly fell on the lagomorph, who was still looking up. He eyed the dust that was sticking to his fur, making it look shiny despite how unkempt it was and how he could make out the bruises forming. And the way it made his eyes sparkle…

Max’s ears twitched, realizing he was being stared at, and met Sam’s gaze. “...What?”

The dog gave a smile and shrugged. “Nothin’.”

“No, what is it - do I got somethin’ in my teeth, or-”

Sam chuckled in amusement, shaking his head. “Nah. It’s nothin’ like that, I just…” He gently cupped Max’s cheek, making the lagomorph’s ears straighten, his brows raising. He gently rubbed a thumb along the faint outline of what he assumed was a bruise on his cheek, and said softly, “...I’ve kinda been thinkin’. ‘Bout, uh...about my plans after all of this is done.”

“...Yeah?”  _ Shit _ , why did Max’s heart start beating so damn fast at that statement? And why was he feeling his hopes rising again? Hadn’t he learned from the last time Sam made a comment to  _ wait _ for him to finish his sentence first? And- oh Jesus Christ, was Sam leaning in? He was hesitant, clearly, but- oh God, he was, too. Was he about to try and kiss him? Was that something he  _ really _ was about to do? Was this real life right now? He wanted to lean in, too, to meet him halfway, but- no. No, this was wrong. Since when did  _ h̢e̛ _ have the right to de̢cid̕e? When did he͢ think h͢e͢ could just do̶ this without war̢ning̨? Ma͘x͠ wasn’t h͜i͏s͘ to cl̶ai̢m͘. Ma̢x ͜bel̡on͏g̶e͞d̵ to n̢ǫ one-

~~_ Something is wrong. _ ~~

Max’s eyes widened at the awareness of the strange train of thought he’d just had, and found himself shoving Sam away, who nearly fell back, and quickly getting to his feet. Sam at first looked a little hurt by the rejection, but promptly composed himself, and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” Max mumbled something, making his ears perk. “...What?”

“Something’s wrong,” Max repeated a little more clearly. “Something’s really wrong, I can’t-” Was somet̢h̸ing͟ w̨ron͠g? No, no, there couldn’t be. He ͞fe͞l̕t͞ fi̢n͠e̡. In fact, he felt pre͜tt̴y g̴ood-

~~ Snap out of it! ~~

Sam watched with increasing worry as the lagomorph began clutching his head with visibly shaking hands, his eyes wide and glancing around frantically at nothing. “Max?”

“No, no, no, not wrong,” he mumbled low under his breath. “Not wrong. Fine. Not wrong-”

“Hey, hey-” He got to his feet and started approaching Max slowly. “Max, hey,” he said gently, “What’s-” The lagomorph grunted as he turned his back to him, continuing to mutter about how he was fine and nothing was wrong. Upon doing so, Sam began to notice that those spots that he’d believed were bruises were slowly spreading across Max’s fur. Alarmed by the sight, he extended a hand to place on Max’s shoulder. “Max-”

“ _ DON’T TOUCH ME! _ ” he yelled, turning and swatting away the dog’s hand with an audible  _ thwap _ , making Sam retract his hand. He was shocked by Max’s volatile reaction, but was even more shocked to see that Max’s eyes seemed to have changed colour, the spots continuing to form on his fur, and his teeth seemed jagged and somehow even pointier than before. “It’s  _ fine! _ I’m fine!” He gave a small laugh. “Everything’s fine! It’s…” His smile faltered, his gaze at first seeming distant until it fell onto one of his hands. He slowly lifted it up to his face. It was practically vibrating, and he could see his fingers slowly forming into claws, webs beginning to weave between them. His fearful eyes turned from his mutating hand to Sam, and he quietly asked, “What’s happening?”

“I-I don’t know,” Sam stammered, shaking his head-

“What’s  _ happening _ t’ me!?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, just as calmly despite the fact that his heart was pounding hard in his chest. Max was making sounds of genuine distress, looking down at his feet to see his toes darkening and slowly merging together. Sam was thinking faster than he could even properly process, meaning that he was going with the first ideas that came to mind. He knelt down and lifted Max’s chin up to make him look him in the eye, and said, “Max, where’s Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth?”

“I- Charlie ran- ran into them, and I-I- they’re probably all the way down there, now.” He started erupting into giggles again, shaking his head. “But we don’t need them! Everything’s okay!”

Sam ignored the last statement - and attempted to ignore the fact that as Max’s legs began to shift, he was noticeably getting taller - and simply nodded. “Okay, all the way down. Got it. Um-” He glanced around quickly. No Toybox, so no telephone, so no teleportation. He’d have to go down on foot. The door to the statue was in a place where he’d have to climb down - that’d take too long. He looked at the hole caused by Charlie sending Max straight into the statue from earlier. That’d have to do. “Just hang tight, li’l buddy,” he said, briskly moving past the transforming lagomorph.

Max looked fearful and distraught, and was quick to grab onto Sam’s arm, practically digging his claws in. “No, don’t leave me! Sam, don’t leave me, please-!”

His pleads were absolutely heartbreaking for the dog to hear. Sam bent over, cupping Max’s cheeks, and said with a shake of his head, “I’m not leavin’ ya’. I’m not leavin’ ya’, I promise, I just gotta get you help-”

“Please,” he continued to beg, “Please, don’t leave me alone up here, I- I need-” He gasped sharply, doubling over and exposing the shark-like dorsal fin that was swiftly forming between his shoulder blades. “Sam-” He sounded out of breath. “Sam, please-”

This transformation seemed to be picking up speed quicker than Sam could think, and it was a long way down to get the help Max needed. “I’ll be right back,” Sam promised, pressing his forehead briefly against Max’s. “I’ll be right back,” he repeated, then promptly freed himself of Max’s claws and went down into the hole. “ _ Move! _ ” he shouted at the first clone he saw on the stairs, shoving him aside as he continued to fight the crowd of Dogglegangers, descending as fast as he could.

Everything was hurting so much. He couldn’t think straight. E͟v҉e͞ry҉thing w̕a̕s ̧o͏ka̴y͜. He found himself on his hands and knees, his entire form shaking, his once small, fluffy tail beginning to elongate, growing slimier, more tadpole-like. Just̨ as i͝t͡ w҉a̡s͠ m̵e̷ant͞ ͞to ͡be.͞ “Sam-” he said weakly, before erupting into a laughing fit, as if this whole situation was the funniest thing in the world. “Hurry-!” he managed to say between laughs, his head beginning to flame up.

Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth had been freed from the Can O’ Nuts when every other toy had vanished with it - though, unfortunately, they were still locked in the cage. “Ugh,” Papierwaite groaned, his spell to try and unlock the cage having failed again, “What’s  _ wrong _ with this thing?”

“I already told you, it’s because we have been  _ weakened _ even  _ further _ ,” Yog-Soggoth replied. “Your spells may not function properly for a couple of hours.”

“All of these centuries, we’ve carefully planned out separation - and now we may not even have the  _ chance _ to  _ carry it out _ because of that damn  _ dummy _ ,” he stated angrily.

“Do NOT insult Charlie that way, he was just-” He was interrupted by the door at the base of the statue being swung open, Sam emerging from it, visibly panicked and out of breath. “Yog-Soggoth!” he said, desperation clear in his tone as he ran over to them, “Something’s wrong with Max!”

“Well, I cannot say I am surprised given you destroyed the-” the Elder God started replying with a glare, though noticed something above them and shouted, “WATCH OUT!”

Sam looked up, and gasped loudly at the sight of the head of the Statue of Liberty coming crashing down suddenly, and grabbed onto the cage and pulled it out of the landing zone just in time, the whole ground shaking with the impact. The dog blinked at the head, then upon hearing the sound of garbled breathing, slowly looked up to see a gigantic, amphibian-like yet rabbity-looking creature standing on the shoulders of the statue, clutching a hand on the torch. “...Max?” Sam spoke quietly, knowing exactly who it was but not entirely wanting to believe it. His expression contorted into one of pure devastation. “ _ MAAAAAAX! _ ”

The creature -  **MAX** \- gave a deafening, guttural roar that rang out clearly into the dead night, making both the dog and the caged man need to cover their ears at the noise. As soon as it ceased, Sam watched as lagomorph-turned-beast took a large leap, flying through the air for a long few moments before landing in the water some distance from the statue, creating a huge splash that resulted in a wave coming and soaking the individuals on the base to the bone. Yet still, Sam continued to watch as Max’s head emerged from the water, making his way towards the city all the way on the other side.

  
The dog ran to the edge of the base, nearly slipping and falling into the water. “MAX!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Max didn’t even flinch - he just continued swimming away. “MAX! COME  _ BACK! _ COME BACK,  _ PLEASE! _ ” He fell to his knees as he watched his best friend slip further and further away. He’d be tearing up if he had any left to cry after the night he’d had. All he could do was let out a loud, angered,  _ upset _ yell into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this marks the end of beyond the alley of the dolls. we now transition into the events prior to the beginning of 'the city that dares not sleep'


	14. The First Fourteen Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and co. try to figure out how to help Max. Meanwhile, Skun-ka'pe and Stinky team up.

General Skun-ka’pe gave yet another loud, frustrated groan, and slammed his fist against the control panel as he pulled himself out from underneath it, cursing in an alien language. The search function on the ship had suddenly fritzed out and stopped working not that long ago, and despite his and his crew’s best attempts to reactivate it, nothing seemed to be working. “Wiley, deal with this,” he instructed the nearest gorilla calmly as he got to his feet, gesturing towards the panel. Wiley nodded and immediately took his place. The General walked until he was just beneath the upper deck, looking up at the brain in the Tank, putting his hands on his hips. “Not making yourself particularly _useful_ ,” he said bitterly.

“Oh, hold your _tongue_ ,” Sammun-Mak argued, “Consider yourself lucky that we were able to power _anything_ considering our _ignorance_.”

“I do not consider myself anything other than most unfortunate for gaining a useless _slug_ of a culture-shocked brain! You may have powered the ship, but you have not even been _competent_ enough to actually locate anything!”

“You insult _our_ intelligence - yet you do not even have a palace that cannot _not_ be powered by another’s brain.”

“Why you-!” He growled, making a strangling gesture with his hands in his frustration. “If I was not lacking in options, I would throw you in the _Processor!_ ” 

After he had yelled that, there was the sound of the door whooshing open, causing everyone on the ship - Sammun-Mak included - to pause and look as Girl Stinky entered, casually stopping in front of the entrance and putting a hand on her hip as it shut behind her. She was looking directly at Skun-ka’pe. “Hey.”

Skun-ka’pe could see out of the corners of his vision his fellow members eyeing him in confusion, but he ignored them only because he was too busy giving Stinky an annoyed look. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t sound so happy to see me.” She walked up to him, stopping only when she was close to him, earning a glare. “I need your help.”

“Oh, really? You did _not_ need it when I was offering it, but now when I am directly in the middle of something, you suddenly do?”

“So that offer was only available when it was convenient for you, huh.”

“I could say the exact same thing to you.”

“Whatever.” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t feel like I suffered much loss with you because I already _had_ a partner.”

“ _Had_ ,” Skun-ka’pe pointed out.

“...Yes. H- They were killed. And it was all that _stupid_ old man’s fault. He-” She shut her eyes, taking a moment to recompose herself - force herself _not_ to get too damn _emotional_ about the whole thing in front of _him_ of all people. “It’s a complicated story, but to put it bluntly, I need him gone more than ever.”

“My condolences,” he said, though not sounding particularly sympathetic, “But I am afraid I have more imp-” He was interrupted by the sound of loud, rhythmic thuds, which were shortly followed by the distant screams of people. Skun-ka’pe gave a look of confusion towards the windows, murmuring, “What is going on out there?” He went to the wheel of the ship, and turned it slowly, scanning his surroundings slowly until-

“What the _hell?_ ” Stinky exclaimed, approaching the (thankfully repaired) front windows along with the other gorillas, who were alarmed by the sight of the large monster that was now stomping about the city. “What _is_ that?”

“I am not quite sure myself,” Skun-ka’pe replied.

“It-” Sammun-Mak said, sounding almost baffled, catching the attention of the others. “That is...another Psychic.”

“That is impossible. There is no other Psychic on Earth. Unless…” The space gorilla’s eyes widened in realization, mentally putting the pieces together. He voice his thought process aloud, “If that is Max, then...the ship’s search function must have malfunctioned because the Toybox is not…”

“Wait, wait, hold on-” Stinky said, turning to him. “Did you just say who I think you said?”

“Yes. You heard correctly.” He could not help but feel anger begin to build in the pit of his stomach. First that _rodent_ had attempted to seal him away, then refused to join him, caused a whole _deal_ of chaos at the museum, and now- now he had had the nerve to _destroy_ the Toybox and deny _him_ his goal!? No - this was simply _unacceptable_ -

“What are we gonna do, sir?” Everett asked him, snapping him out of his enraged thoughts.

The General looked from him to the other members of his crew who seemed just as angered, just as discouraged, just as _lost_ as he felt - and as soon as he saw their expressions, his own softened, appearing more thoughtful. “...Perhaps we cannot complete our goal,” he spoke to them. “But by the stars, men, I assure you - we will not be leaving with our heads hanging in shame because of this loss. There still lies opportunity here - and when I say, we will seize it. In the meantime, we must keep biding our time - so as you were, boys. I would prefer the ship fully functional before continuing.”

“Yes, sir!” they shouted, returning to what they were doing prior to the interruptions.

“And make sure to get us in the air,” he commanded. “I would prefer not having that _thing_ come in contact with the ship.”

As he was instructing his crew, Stinky approached him, clearing her throat to get his attention. As soon as he turned around, she put her hands on her hips again and tilted her head. “You were saying?”

He eyed her for a moment before giving a resigned sigh. “ _Fine_ . Whatever it is you require assistance with, I shall provide it to the best of my ability. _However_ ,” his tone was stern, “Understand, I have my own priorities, and they come first-”

“And understand that I’m not one of your _goons_ ,” she interrupted. “I know how this works, Mighty Joe Young - I’m no amateur.”

“I- ...what?”

“You help me, I help you,” she continued, ignoring his confusion at the ‘nickname’. “And neither of us cross each other, and we’re good. That about cover it?”

“...I’m sorry, I’m still hung up on- _what_ did you call me?”

“Don’t worry about it, just give me a yes or a no.”

“...Yes.”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be over here if you need me.” With that, she walked past him and was headed right for the throne-like chair that she had sat on when she had first stepped onto this ship.

Skun-ka’pe only continued to look confused. “... _Mighty Joe Young?_ ”

. . .

Two hours.

It had been two hours since Max had changed. Two hours since his best friend had been forcibly transformed into something from a Godzilla film. Two hours since his li’l buddy was ripped away from him yet again. And all he did for those two hours was sit on the ledge of that statue’s base, and stare at the city in the far distance as Max stomped around in it like it was a playground made just for him, looking absolutely exhausted yet so completely beyond sleep.

Eventually, dawn arrived, golden light spreading slowly across the night sky. And he watched as Max slipped so smoothly and naturally back into the nearby waters that one would think that it was where he truly belonged. And maybe he did - after all, it seemed that the universe was so friggin’ _insistent_ that Max shouldn’t be with him. And he couldn’t blame it, he supposed. It was _his_ fault that everything happened the way it did: The rift, the break-up, his brain getting stolen, and now...this. He thought he’d been saving his partner, and all he did was make things so much more worse.

There was a _shwing_ behind him, followed by the sound of a lock clicking and a cage door opening, the man trapped in it finally having been able to reactivate his powers again. Yes, he had left Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth in their cage. No, he hadn’t talked to them. No, he didn’t actually care about the fact that their chance to separate after a century of planning had gone out the window. In fact, he didn’t care about much of anything right now. And he certainly didn’t wish to talk or interact with anyone and would have preferred to be left alone, wallowing in his self-loathing and rage and depression about the situation. Still, he heard those footsteps approaching and saw in the corner of his eye the man sitting beside him at a reasonable distance.

“...This shouldn’t have happened,” Yog-Soggoth murmured.

“Well, it did,” Sam replied, aggravation in his tone.

“But it shouldn’t have. None of it.” Pause. “...It is nothing less than my fault. I should never have left the Toybox behind. I should never have left Charlie alone for so long, I-”

“Just stop. Alright? That ain’t gonna fix anything.”

“...You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell over them, and Sam’s gaze continued to stare out at the water. He could still see it rippling from where Max had entered. Eventually, he slowly shook his head. “What the hell even happened…?” He looked at the conjoined man and creature. “Everythin’ had been goin’ _fine_ , and then suddenly he turned into a damn creature from the Black Lagoon, so _what happened!?_ ”

“...The Toybox has always been the most powerful thing,” Yog-Soggoth explained. “More powerful than any toy that has ever resided in it combined. It has to be - or, rather, _had_ \- or else it would not be able to contain them. The energy within the toys was weak enough to be completely annihilated, but the Toybox was far too potent. As a result, its power had the opportunity to transfer into a new host, and...well, unfortunately…”

“...It went for Max.”

While the Elder God nodded solemnly. “He might as well have been a magnet for the stuff.”

“What I don’t understand is how that could lead t’ him turnin’ into that monster from The Host.”

“The power is too much for a mortal body to contain,” Papierwaite spoke up. “So of course, it changed him to suit its level of energy.”

“...S-So-” the dog stammered, looking back at the water again. “So wh-what, is he just- is he just stuck like this now? Is-is there no way t’ get ‘im back, or-?” He looked back at them with eyes pleading for an answer.

Yog-Soggoth could only shake his head. “I genuinely wish I could give you an answer. And I am sincerely sorry that I cannot.”

Sam stared at him with a look that expressed the anguish he felt receiving that answer, lowering his head and burying his face in his hands. The man and the creature lowered their own heads, feeling more remorse and sympathy for the dog than any feeling towards their own situation, and in respect for him, they remained silent, the sun continuing to rise, pushing away the black sky.

None of the three were quite certain how long they continued to sit there - only that the sound of a helicopter approaching them was the thing that broke the silence, making them all look up. As they saw it lowering towards them, they got to their feet, backing up a few steps. When the helicopter came close enough, a rope ladder was tossed out. They were all hesitant, until Sam saw Agent Superball in the doorway. The dog made a gesture to the other two to follow him, and started climbing up it, Papierwaite following behind him. The agent extended a hand when he got close enough, and helped pull Sam onboard, saying over the noise, “Good morning, sir,” before leading him along further into the helicopter to make room for the man coming in after him.

Sam practically collapsed in the nearest seat, Papierwaite sitting beside him and Superball sitting across. “Superball-” Sam spoke, wishing to tell him everything - and more importantly, wanting to ask about Max - but the agent shook his head.

“We’ll talk when we arrive at Mama Bosco’s lab. In the meantime, just try to relax.”

The dog gave a sigh through his nose, leaning back in his seat. He felt so very far from relaxed right now, but he supposed if this was his last chance to relax before being thrusted into more bullshit, he may as well take it.

. . .

“ _...Looks like the sudden eighty-foot creature attack has officially stopped for the time being, the monster having slipped silently away after two straight hours of wreaking havoc in New York City,_ ” the reporter on the TV said, with Mama Bosco and the one, untainted Sam clone watching. “ _It is currently unknown at this time what started the assault, nor is it known if it will return. We have yet to receive any official statements of any kind, but it is still early. Up next, the space gorillas still remain in the-_ ”

There was the sound of the elevator platform descending, causing the scientist to turn around, blinking. Upon seeing Sam and Superball (she failed to see Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth right away, given they were behind the other two), she turned down the TV and turned to them as they approached. “Agent Superball,” she greeted, which was returned with a nod, then gave a small smile as she said, “Hello, Sam.”

“Hey, Mama Bosc-” Sam started returning the greeting, then blinked upon seeing the clone behind her, still staring at the TV and seeming unfazed by the volume being muted. “...What is that?”

She didn’t quite catch on to what he meant at first, then followed his gaze. “Oh! Don’t mind him, he’s just- been helping around the lab. Sort of.” She looked back at him, and added humorously, “More useful than Harry, anyway.” She ended up looking over his shoulder and seeing Papierwaite - and the creature attached to him - and her smile faded with a look of shock. “...Hello there, Mister…?” she greeted hesitantly.

Papierwaite seemed just as nervous about meeting her - obviously greeting anyone with an Elder God in one’s chest was far from ideal - and gave an awkward smile as he approached her with an extended hand. “Anton Papierwaite, mademoiselle. And this is my, uh-” He looked down at Yog-Soggoth for a moment, then back at her. “Companion, Yog-Soggoth.”

“Greetings, ma’am,” Yog-Soggoth said with a nod.

“...A pleasure,” she murmured, shaking his hand. “And, frankly, intrigued.”

Papierwaite opened his mouth to respond, but Superball cut in. “With the utmost respect, Doctor Mama Bosco, we have much to discuss about last night’s events, and I’m afraid I’m on a bit of a time sensitive schedule-”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Mama Bosco said, “Of course. I mean, I imagine, with you being the President’s…” She trailed off, blinking in realization, her eyes searching the group for a moment before looking at the agent again. “...Wait - where _is_ Max?”

Superball paused, then wordlessly looked at Sam, who’d lowered his head. The attention of the others was on him now. “...That _was_ Max,” he eventually muttered.

“I-” the lady stammered. “I-I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“Oh dear,” Superball murmured, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Wh- how? H-How did that- what happened?”

Sam gave a deep sigh, glancing at the agent and said, “I’ll try to keep this as brief as I can for ya’ without skippin’ over anything.” With that, Sam started explaining everything from the moment Skun-ka’pe had landed on Earth as concisely as possible, yet making sure to include the important details necessary for the whole story to make sense (Though excluding what exactly he went through while retrieving the Chthonic Destroyer). “...And then after I destroyed the Toybox,” he finally said, “Its power just...clung t’ him, and then…” He gave a shrug, shaking his head.

“Oh, Sam…” Mama Bosco said, placing a hand over her chest in sympathy. “But- surely there’s a way to fix this, right?”

“That’s just it-” he gestured to Papierwaite, “They both said they don’t know.”

“That’s...not good,” Superball said, sounding hesitant. “If there’s no way to reverse it, then...if he attacks the city again, then…”

He might have been incredibly reluctant to finish the sentence, but Sam had caught onto what he was thinking quickly enough, and his eyes were wide. “No...no, no, you cannot be _freakin’_ serious right now-” He got right in the agent’s face - though Superball didn’t budge - with his lip threatening to curl. “‘S only been a couple hours, and you’re already talkin’ about- ‘bout what - _killing_ him!?”

“Please believe me when I say that it is the _last_ thing I want to do-”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on just a _minute!_ ” Mama Bosco got between the two, prompting Sam to move back a few steps, while looking right at Superball’s face with furrowed brows. “No one said there’s _no_ way to fix it, Agent - it’s just that no one _knows!_ Which means that there _could_ be a solution still!”

“That is a fair point,” Superball replied.

“I could probably find it - I mean, hell, I’ve found out how to create new dimensions and bring my dead self back to the _living_. If you give me time, I could figure out a way to return him to normal.”

The agent gave a thoughtful expression, remaining quiet for a few moments. “...As the current stand-in for our Mr. President, the most time I believe I can spare is 168 hours And even that might be pushing it depending on how severe the situation is.”

“So...a week,” Sam said.

“That is correct.”

“I can do that,” the lady gave a nod. “I could work with that no problem. I can get right on it right now.”

“Perfect. I’ll leave you to it.” He looked at Sam, prepared to give a goodbye, but seeing as the dog seemed pretty peeved still, he decided to remain silent and take his exit.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and the attention turned to Yog-Soggoth. “If it is not too much trouble, perhaps Anton and I could provide some assistance? We may not have the exact answers to fix this issue, but we are privy of the ways of magic and general supernatural happenings.”

“Actually, that would be wonderful. I could probably use all the help I can get, right now.”

“Alright, then. We shall assist you in whatever way we can. Isn’t that right, Papierwaite?”

“Of course,” the man replied, sounding surprisingly on-board despite being volunteered without being asked first. Then again, the two did share a close connection - it wasn’t out of the question they’d already briefly discussed it before even speaking.

“Right this way, then, gentlemen.” She gestured for Papierwaite to walk further into the lab, and he did so. She then turned to Sam and asked, “Are you staying to help as well?” The dog said nothing, having not heard - and considering how his eyes seemed glazed over, she wasn’t too surprised. “...Sam?”

“Huh?” he blinked and looked at her.

“Are you staying with us?”

“Oh. Um…” He shook his head. “No, I, uh- I think I should probably...pick up the DeSoto. It’s probably still sittin’ at that warehouse.”

“Are you sure? You could just stay here to rest. I mean, when was the last time you ate or slept?”

“I can pick up food while I’m out. It’s all good,” he replied, purposely avoiding answering the second part.

“You’re really starting to worry me. You know that?”

He was a little taken off-guard by the statement. “...I’ll admit I’m not feelin’ the greatest about any of this, but it’s nothin’ I can’t handle.”

“That’s the attitude that’s worrying me.”

“Look, I just- I just need t’ clear my head, okay? Get some fresh air, take a bit of a load off, that’s all.”

She frowned, but said, “Alright. But if you need anything, you come right back.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He turned and proceeded to start walking off.

“Take care, Sam,” she called after him, right before he ascended back up the elevator.

The dog waited patiently on the sidewalk until a taxi eventually came by. He silently got in the backseat, and tried to ignore the radio going on about last night’s hectic events regarding the clones and Max as the taxi drove. As they continued along in the city, he could see the damage the eighty foot beast had left - entire streets blocked off, a few damaged buildings. The entire vehicle had shook violently for a moment, and he heard the driver mutter, “Damn footprints. Been hittin’ those all mornin’.”

Sam simply leaned his head against the window and shut his eyes. _Dammit, Max_ , he thought, _How are we gonna get out of this one…?_

. . .

Flint stepped out of the cab, and it sped away behind him, the sound of the engine growing distant in a matter of seconds, leaving him alone with the pretty beat up-looking building before him.

After scouring the sewer that that one secret passage had led to, he’d located a box of equipment in there. At first, he figured the most it’d be good for was evidence - though evidence as to what, he hadn’t yet figured out - but then he’d discovered an address on the box. And while at first he doubted it actually having anything to do with the Stinkys, he figured it’d be careless to not check it out. Unfortunately, he was only arriving now in the early hours of morning thanks to the random monster attack holding everything up last night. He’d have to find Sam and Max later and ask about it - surely they’d know what was up with that.

The front door to the place was locked - no surprise there - but there was one of those exterior cellar doors that he was able to get open with a little bit of force. He heard the splintering of wood when he did so, and on the stairs he could see what remained of the plank that had been used to try and keep the cellar door locked. He kicked them the rest of the way down as he descended. The (strangely tiny) basement was empty aside from a washing machine and some empty shelves, and so he decided to continue to the main level.

The inside of the house seemed pretty standard to the point where his doubts that it actually belonged to the Stinkys were rising. It had blue painted walls which were peeling and discoloured thanks to age, and the wooden floorboards creaked under his shoes. The living room had one of those old-fashioned looks that one might find at their grandparents’ house - older-looking TV, a cheap cover over the equally as cheap couch. Kitchen was empty - though, the fridge had some expired food, and...stuff he couldn’t quite identify but didn’t feel comfortable inspecting too closely while he was alone in an unfamiliar house. Everything just seemed so... _bare_. Like it was more of a place to crash for a night than an actual home - and not even that. It seemed as if no one had been there for a long while.

He was beginning to think that, if this did belong to either of the two, it was no more than an empty house to have things dropped off instead of at the diner to have some deniability. That was his guess, anyway - it was hard to really keep up with the thought process of either of them. However, he found himself being proven wrong - at least somewhat - when he came across one of the bedrooms. It was very minimalistic - bed with a side table, the white walls making it look like it belonged to some crappy hospital - but when he inspected a nearby closet, he at least found clothes within it. Clothes that seemed like the sort Grandpa Stinky might own. Actually, he was a little surprised to see them properly hung up and free of dust or dirt. Good to know he still cared enough to come back and wash his clothes. There was a laundry basket sitting on the floor, and when Flint knelt down to inspect it, it seemed to merely contain some folded up pairs of pants-

And after examining it carefully for a moment, he noticed that the wood under the laundry basket wasn’t quite the same as the floor.

With a tilt of his head, he moved the laundry basket aside, and found that there was a rectangular indentation where one could fit their fingers into. At first he tried to push it, but when that didn’t work, he pulled instead. The panel in the floor came free, exposing a large cutout in the floor with what seemed to be a ladder leading down into the dark. Figures - it was just like the Stinkys to have a secret room in the house. This must have been why the basement itself appeared so small.

He carefully climbed down, only just managing to fit into the small opening, and safely reached the stone floor. The room was incredibly dark, save for what little light came in through the opening - but it was thanks to that little bit of light that he was able to see the desk with the bankers lamp sitting right on it. He went over and tested the chain, and the lamp thankfully turned on, illuminating the room.

It appeared to be some type of storage room - and Flint could quickly tell that a majority of the items that should have been in the actual house were in here instead. There were boxes littering the place, and if he didn’t know whose place he was dealing with, he would’ve guessed they were just moving in or something. Some of the things in the boxes were mirrors, some just random, sea-themed decorations he could easily see being in the diner. Old chairs, an old dresser - Jesus, how the hell did they even manage to get some of this stuff in here? Eh, he probably shouldn’t question that part too hard.

Eventually, he came by a box with framed pictures inside. The first one he pulled out was a photo in black and white - a group of men standing in front of an old cargo ship. He recognized his great-grandpa Emery at once, and figured the guy standing two men from his right was Ol’ Stinky himself. The man couldn’t help but crack a smile - who’d have guessed he’d keep something like this on him, even if only to bury it under a bunch of other junk? He was going to return the photo to the box, then paused upon seeing a rather... _interesting_ photo, and as he put back the one he’d taken out, he picked that one up instead.

It was another black and white picture, this time of Grandpa Stinky - still significantly younger, though he could swear he could see white hairs sprouting in his beard - sitting at the end of a table and holding a young child wearing some sort of dress. Oddly enough, his brain went _Girl Stinky_ , but it easily could’ve been his...wait, did he even have a daughter? If he did, he never mentioned her. He didn’t seem like the type to mention family, actually. He decided to put the photo away for now, but he’d keep it in mind.

He inspected the other items in the basement, but the only thing he found even slightly out of the ordinary was some sort of old kiddie pool. And when he said old, he meant _old_ . He didn’t know if he’d ever seen a kiddie pool quite in that style. But then again, Grandpa Stinky _was_ an old guy. So he decided to move onto the one thing he hadn’t checked yet - the desk.

It took a little force to open up the one drawer, but as soon as he did, the contents inside slid and hit the wall of the drawer. And by ‘contents’, what that actually meant was the singular, leatherbound journal that was inside. Weird - he didn’t figure either of the Stinkys to be the type to keep journals. Seemed too exposed, too open to vulnerability. Which was only being proved by the fact that Flint was now picking it up and opening it, reading over its text.

Most of the first few pages were written as if they were recipes that were scrapped, but they sure as hell weren’t anything like grandpa’s ol’ potato salad recipe. What words weren’t messily scratched out, he didn’t even recognize as actual ingredients. He felt like he was reading more of a sort of spell than anything. He continued flipping through the pages, skipping over a few, then found something else interesting. It seemed like some sort of...diary entry? That was the best way he could describe it, anyway. There were several misspelled words (not written in dialect - they were _actually_ misspelled), he noticed, but he was able to figure them out easy enough to understand.

_...She ain’t undead, I know that much. She’s as alive and breathing as I am or any of the men on this ship are. But she seems to be handling being out of the water well, and she’s certainly not just a-_ He looked over the word a few times, and could swear it said ‘mermaid’ _-like every sailor speaks of. The locals seemed none too happy about her, though. They were saying that a “Roosahlka”, a real, living one, was highly dangerous apparently. Pah! I don’t feel danger from this wee baby! As if she could drown me…_

That was the only word in the paragraph he couldn’t quite understand. _‘Roosahlka’_ ...he couldn’t even begin to guess what that could’ve been. Possibly to do with mermaids, apparently - and he’d consider even _that_ idea frankly ridiculous if he wasn’t living in a world with zombies, vampires, space gorillas and, apparently, giant frog monsters. What he couldn’t help but wonder, though, was if it was possible that this had some sort of connection to Grandpa Stinky’s granddaughter.

Before he could even really properly consider that last question, his phone started ringing in his pocket, scaring the absolute _crap_ out of him. After all, nothing like receiving a call while you were in some grouchy old man’s house, reading his journal in his weird secret room you found in his closet, right? He quickly pulled out his phone and was actually sort of surprised to see it was Sam calling him. He couldn’t remember the last time the guy had been up this early. He pressed ‘accept’ on the phone, and held it to his ear. “Sam!” he greeted cheerfully, “What’s up?”

“ _Hey, Flint,_ ” the dog replied. He seemed like he was attempting to sound happy but was forcing it, though Flint decided against assuming that was the case. Again - it was early. “ _This isn’t a bad time, is it? I know you’ve been workin’..._ ”

“Oh, no, ‘course not. Actually, kinda glad ya’ called, ‘cause I’ve been wonderin’ a few things that, uh, maybe you’d be able t’ clear up?”

“ _Yeah, sure. I’ll tell ya’ anything y’ want. Um...wanna go eat?_ ”

“Y’know what? Sure. I could go for somethin’. Maybe just by that ol’ corner store we used t’ stop at for those slushies?”

“ _Sounds fine by me. Need a pick-up?_ ”

“Nah, ‘s fine, I’ll just meet ya’ there.”

“ _Alright. See ya’ there, then._ ” With that, the phone clicked, indicating he’d hung up. Flint put his phone away, then stared at the journal still in his hand before deciding to pocket it. It seemed for the most part that the chances of the elderly man coming down and discovering it missing were slim, and he was willing to push his luck if it meant being closer to solving whatever mystery he’d found himself getting into. 

He then made sure that everything he’d moved was placed back where it originally was, as well as made sure to wipe off whatever he touched as to not leave any fingerprints before heading back to the basement. He paused only upon seeing the still broken plank by the cellar door stairs - then simply decided to kick them under the stairs and then took his leave.

. . .

When Flint arrived, he was not surprised by the fact that Sam was already there, sitting on the hood of the DeSoto with a couple of cold, premade breakfast burritos in hand (of course he wasn’t - the guy was a speed demon) but rather he was surprised to find him there _alone_.

As Sam noticed the man approaching, his ears perked forward, and while giving a small smile, he simply held out the plastic wrapped burrito to him. “Your favourite.”

“Thanks.” He took the burrito from the dog and took a seat next to him. While Sam just casually unwrapped his, Flint took a look in the vehicle’s seats, as if expecting Max to be sleeping in them. He wasn’t - all there was was a bunch of random stuff in the back seat. And so the man turned to Sam and innocently asked, “Where’s Max at? He still sleepin’?”

Sam paused, though seemed like he was expecting the question - and Flint was half-prepared to hear him say that something happened between them. However, instead, he said, “Uh- yeah, he is. At the, uh...bottom of the ocean, I presume.”

At first, Flint wasn’t too sure _what_ to think of that. Then as he slowly began to clue in, his eyes widened, appearing completely shocked. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’,” he said quietly.

“Wish I was. _Really_ wish I was.”

“Jesus- wait, so he was that-” Sam nodded before he even finished his sentence. “ _Jesus_. Is he okay? I mean, aside from the...y’know.”

“I couldn’t even tell ya’ for sure, I was stuck on Lady Liberty for the rest of the night.”

“Damn. You two both had one hell of a night...what even happened? How did it get like that?”

“That’s...a story I don’t really wanna say right this second.”

“Okay, fair. Can’t really blame ya’.” Deciding to change the subject, he started unwrapping his breakfast, and said, “When ya’ called, I was actually in Grandpa Stinky’s house.”

Sam raised a brow. “He’s got a house?”

“Y’ wouldn’t think so, would ya’?”

“No, not at all. How’d ya’ even find it?”

“Well, thanks t’ that secret passage ya’ led me to, I found this box of equipment. Fog machine, A.V. stuff. Had an address at the bottom.”

“Right, gotcha...I should probably tell ya’ ‘bout that, though, huh?”

“‘Bout what? Your deal with Lady Stinky?”

“Mhm.”

The man shifted so he was sitting more faced towards him. “Couldn’t hurt t’ hear. Knowin’ you for as long as I have, I’d hope there’s a good reason.” He listened quietly but intently as Sam told him about Max having his brain stolen and how that had led to him turning to Stinky for some quick help and how he’d agreed to not look into anything of hers (though, he left out the part where he’d convinced her by handing her the note). “Dang - had his brain cut out _and_ turned into somethin’ out of a Lovecraftian horror flick? What crappy luck.”

“Right.”

“Least he seemed okay when _I_ saw you two...but anyway - I guess I could understand why ya’ did it. I mean, if it were me in that situation, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. She’s better off havin’ on your s- well...not so much on your side so much as not entirely against ya’, but y’ get what I mean. Otherwise, ya’ end up like me where I nearly get an axe to the head.”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ that, but...still, I’m sorry ‘bout doin’ that to ya’. It didn’t make me feel too great.”

“Hey, I get it. Jobs like ours? Sometimes ya’ gotta spin a bit of a crazy tale.”

“I guess. Good ya’ still found somethin’, though, right?”

“Yeah! I’d say so.” He was tempted to bring it all up - the pictures he found, the _journal_ he found, the fact that the house was practically empty otherwise - but there was a part of him that didn’t want to overwhelm Sam by accident. Poor guy seemed to have enough on his plate as is. And he wanted to ask more about Max’s situation, but apparently that was a little touchy at the moment, too. So, eventually he asked, “Did ya’ just call me out here t’ chit-chat over breakfast?”

“... _Iiis_ it bad if I say yes?”

“‘Course not, ya’ big lug! I’m just sayin’, if ya’ got anything else you’re plannin’ on doin’, I’m free.”

“What? Oh, no, Flint, you’ve got a case-”

“That I’ve been lookin’ into for several hours at this point. I’ve got enough that I can sit back and piece some stuff together _without_ bein’ up and on the go, y’know?”

“I don’t wanna bug ya’...”

“That’s fine. ‘Cause _I_ wanna bug _you_.” Sam couldn’t help but give a chuckle at that, making the man smile as well before turning his attention to the cluttered backseat. “What’s all this stuff? This from your apartment?”

The dog followed his gaze. “Oh, no, that’s, uh- that’s Sybil’s. I didn’t even know I still had that in ther- y’know, that’s been in there since yesterday mornin’.”

“Well, you have been really busy, it seems.”

“Right. Jeez, I hope none of it’s broken. I should probably drop it off now that I’ve got the chance…” He looked at Flint. “I’m guessin’ you’re plannin’ on comin’ with?”

“Sure am, buddy!” He got up and said as he was getting into the passenger side, “I’m ready t’ go when you are!”

Sam gave a small laugh at his energy, shaking his head slightly as he moved to get behind the wheel.

. . .

“So, er-” Papierwaite said as he and Yog-Soggoth watched the lady work from a reasonable distance, “What did you call this again?”

“A drone,” Mama Bosco replied patiently, her goggles pulled over her eyes as she fiddled the wiring inside. “I’m gonna use it to try and get a scan on Max to see what’s up before I go working on a solution.”

“Makes sense,” Yog-Soggoth murmured.

“Of course,” the man said with a nod, readjusting the ends of his sleeves. “Pardon my making you repeat yourself, I’ve just never kept up the best with technology. As soon as colour came to television, I stopped really bothering paying attention.”

The scientist couldn’t help but laugh at that - up until she looked over and saw Papierwaite’s neutral expression. She stopped laughing and asked, “Wait, you’re serious?”

_Now_ he cracked a slight smile. “It may be a slight exaggeration, but for the most part, yes.”

“You don’t-” she started saying, then stopped and rolled her eyes at her own words. “I’d say you don’t look _that_ old, but to be fair, I’m in the same boat.” She leaned back over to continue her work, and started explaining, “Passed away lord knows how many years ago, and only came back to life just last night.”

He hummed. “Interesting.”

“What about you? What’s your story.”

The man opened his mouth to reply, but Yog-Soggoth spoke up first. “He worshipped me, attempted to summon me, failed, and we have been fused together ever since.”

“...I wasn’t _quite_ going to put it that way,” Papierwaite mumbled.

“I know. That’s why I said it for you.”

“...Well then,” Mama Bosco said after a pause. “Guessing there’s no way to fix that, either?”

“Well, there _was_.” Papierwaite crossed his arms just under the creature’s form. “Unfortunately, the one way we knew how went out the window as soon as the Toybox did.”

“Aw, that _stinks!_ I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He gave a shrug, and said, “It is not ideal, but we have gone over a century like this, and if we must go centuries more, there is not much we can do about it.” He leaned his lower back against the metal surface, and said, “There is a part of me that cannot help but feel things just simply were meant to be this way.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

He went quiet for a moment, then lowered his gaze, giving a silent sigh through his nose. “...It is strange to say this out loud, but I knew Sam and Max’s great-grandfathers. Well - not so much ‘knew’ as I, er...tried to take their lives.”

“Lovely,” she muttered.

“Very. But ultimately, it was because of my own ambitions and my attempts of destroying them that led me to being stuck like this. And now, decades later, here I am, facing their descendants. One has been turned against his will, the other’s in distress...and here I am with my only options being either to wallow in my self-pity as I have since I was bested in my own game, or to help them.”

“Ah, I see. So you believe this is karma then.”

“Mm...as surprising as this may sound, I do not actually believe in things like karma or a fate other than the inevitable end of everyone and everything. So I do not consider it either of those, but rather...a chance at redemption. Perhaps I will not be able to recover from the consequences of my own mistakes, but maybe in providing assistance to them, maybe I could at least find comfort in it at last.”

“That is awfully sentimental of you, Anton,” Yog-Soggoth commented.

The man huffed. “Well, it was as you said before, my _deity_ \- I would like to think the years have humbled me, as well.”

“I would not consider you ‘humbled’ so much as ‘reluctantly accepting’.”

“Well, in any case,” Mama Bosco interjected, wiping her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, “It’s a good way to look at a bad situation - and we could probably do well with a little of that right now. Now, do you mind passing me those pliers there?”

. . .

Meanwhile, Girl Stinky was finding out the hard way that attempting to come up with a foolproof plan was difficult without a partner. It was even _more_ difficult when she _HAD_ a partner that couldn’t quite seem to _understand_ why she needed it _100% foolproof_.

“You do not need to have all of these _complexities_ with a _single_ assassination,” Skun-ka’pe said, annoyed, after she’d ran yet another possible idea by him. “All you are doing is wasting your energy.”

“Y’know, I don’t think you’re exactly understanding that yes, it _does_ need to be a li’l complex, because the idea is to not get _caught_.”

“Then poison him. Get him alone and slide a blade straight into his heart. Bury him alive somewhere. There are several methods to use where stealth is on your side.”

“No, see- this is exactly where you’re missing the point! If he just _vanishes_ , everyone will _know_ I had something to do with it! I need there to be some way to get rid of him _without_ raising suspicion.”

“Well, then that is simply impossible for you, I’m afraid. If you have garnered such a reputation that you cannot get away with taking the life of one man, then that is on you.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “That’s real rich coming from you.”

“My reputation allows me to get away with it because if someone dared to confront me about it, they would find themselves dead as well. Eventually, anyone with half a brain would know better than to stand in my way.”

“Yeah, well, you can only get away with that sort of crap on Earth if you’re a billionaire or some sorta cop. A girl running a small diner _definitely_ isn’t going to cut the ‘getting away with murder’ bill. And might I just add how sad it is that you’re supposedly this sort of intergalactic warlord, and yet you can’t provide _one_ good solution to this-”

Skun-ka’pe sighed deeply and turned to face her. “ _Look-_ ”

Sammun-Mak groaned loudly from the upper deck. “Could you two cease your _incessant_ arguing? You are so _grating_ on our currently absent ear drums.”

“Well, do _you_ have a suggestion?” Stinky shot back, then murmured, “I mean, I’d sure friggin’ hope so considering you’re a _brain_.”

“It must be said that we personally side with the malodorous primate-”

“Oh, perfect.”

“This really _is_ simple. Just behead him. Or take out his brain - that was an effective method for us.”

The lady and gorilla exchanged a raised brow, then looked back at the brain. “Is that in terms of executions _you_ performed, or?” Skun-ka’pe inquired.

“Do your eyes not work?” was all Sammun-Mak replied, sounding annoyed and moving suddenly in his tank, making the liquid inside slosh.

“...Anyway,” the general turned to Stinky, “As I was saying-”

“No, shut up,” she interrupted him, holding her hand out. She wasn’t even looking at him, and she had a thoughtful expression on her face. “...That-” she pointed her index finger, “That last one could actually be a good-”

She herself was then interrupted by the sound of the ship whirring, the electronic voice saying, ‘SEARCH SYSTEM BACK ONLINE’.

“Ah - perfect!” Skun-ka’pe said with a grin. “Now that _that_ is back in order, we-”

Sammun-Mak gave a cry of pain, a shock visibly going through him. Soon after, he found himself saying against his will, “ _Toy located: Chthonic Destroyer within the radius._ ” After that, he shook himself, giving a low groan.

Skun-ka’pe blinked at the announcement. “The Chthonic Destroyer? But how could it have- no...I suppose it technically would be _independent_ of the Toybox…”

“...I’m sorry,” Stinky said, “What the hell are we talking about?”

“Tiro,” the general instructed, ignoring her question and turning to his crew member. “Find the location on the Destroyer immediately.” Tiro gave a nod and did so. “This is a presented opportunity - let us try to seize it before the sun has set, lest we have complications.”

The lady merely rolled her eyes and returned to thinking - though this time, it was with a little less frustration and a lot more clarity.

. . .

“We probably could’ve gotten two rooms, Flint.”

“And where’s the fun in that? C’mon, it’ll be like back in the ol’ college days!”

Some while after Sam had dropped off Sybil’s things, he and Flint had ended up booking a hotel room for at least the night - seeing as neither of them had anywhere else to stay in at the moment. Flint had suggested making a stop by the apartment, but Sam had appeared reluctant and said ‘maybe tomorrow’.

The door clicked open upon Flint unlocking it, and shortly after entering, he sat himself down on the furthest of the two beds. “God,” he said, bouncing on it slightly, “These are a lot softer than the rock I sleep on.”

“Still don’t get why ya’ don’t just get a new bed.”

“I just don’t got room for one. Well - I didn’t. I might, now that a darn earthquake’s hit it.”

“Right. Um…” He was looking over towards the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna get a shower, I’m feelin’ pretty gross…” He looked back at Flint and asked, “You mind?”

“Oh no, ‘course not. Go ahead.”

“Cool. I’ll be out in a bit.”

While the dog shut the bathroom door and turned on the water, Flint was pulling the journal back out and flipping to the page where ‘Roosahlka’ had been written. He then pulled out his phone and kept looking between the just barely coherent chicken scratch and the device to make sure he was spelling it properly as he put it into a search bar. At once, the page stated at the top, ‘No results found for Roosahlka. Showing results for **_Rusalka_ **.’ He clicked the first link.

_...A female entity, often malicious toward mankind and frequently associated with water...frequently resemble the concept of the mermaid...an unquiet dangerous being who is no longer alive...highly feared yet respected...if someone looked up close, their hair turned green...pictured as having legs rather than a fish tail…_

He couldn’t help but squint as he moved from that link to the next, and then the next and the next one after that. They may have had slightly varied wording, but for the most part they seemed to agree that this _supposedly_ mythical creature was some sort of lady that typically stayed in the water and was basically considered malevolent - though, specifically only considered so during the 19th century. 

He rubbed his chin in thought, and looked back over the journal, re-reading the entry. He was about to turn the page in search of any further information, paused, then checked his phone again. He had realized that twenty minutes had passed and Sam was still running the shower. With a slightly concerned furrow of his brow, he found himself moving from the bed and to the bathroom door, tapping his knuckles against it just loud enough so Sam could hopefully hear. “Everything good in there, Sam?”

“Yeah,” he replied from the other side of the door, “Everything’s good.” Truthfully, things were not good. Truthfully, the dog wasn’t even properly showering so much as he was just sitting on the shower floor letting the hot water run against his back, his eyes unfocused and lowered. He had been doing nothing except replaying over and over again the scene of Max transforming before his very eyes - seeming so afraid, seeming so out of it, seeming so... _not_ himself. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until Flint had knocked, but between the man asking him if he was okay and the fact that the water was beginning to turn cold, he decided now was probably the time to get out.

Flint had gone back to looking over the journal, though his mind was more focused on Sam and thus preventing him from actually registering anything he was reading. So when he’d heard the bathroom door open, he looked up at once to see Sam dressed again, his fur looking a little damp and messy from having a towel roughly rubbed against it, and he somehow looked more tired than he had going into the shower. The man raised a brow. “You sure you good, buddy?”

“Yeah, ‘s all good,” Sam mumbled in reply, fetching the remote for the room’s TV before sitting at the end of his bed and turning it on.

“But are ya’ just sayin’ that? And before you sigh and insist that you’re not-” he moved from his bed to sitting on Sam’s. “-I know that sometimes when Max ain’t around, y’ get a li’l...down in the dumps.”

“Don’t say ‘down in the dumps’.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

The dog looked down at the remote in his hand, fiddling with the volume button for a moment to turn it down, then finally replied as he set it aside, “Yes, I miss him and I wish he was here, but it’s fine because Mama Bosco’s gonna fix ‘im, and everything’s gonna go back to as normal as it can get.”

Flint frowned, and wanted to comment on how that sounded like Sam was more just telling himself that to reassure himself than anything, but what was playing on the screen caught his eye and made him pause. “...Well, guess he misses ya’ too.”

“Now why the hell would ya’ say somethin’ like-” Flint grabbed his lower jaw and forcefully turned his head to the TV - which was showing footage of the giant amphibian creature emerging slowly from the ocean from the boardwalk. He blinked, and quickly turned up the TV again.

“ _...Creature is awake and seems very active, and looks like it’s headed towards New York City once more. Citizens should be cautious and avoid the streets if all possibl-_ ”

Sam shut off the TV, and ran a hand down his face, sighing deeply at the realization he was going to be faced with another long night.

**Tuesday night, 154:00:00 remaining**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (rusalka info simply comes from wikipedia btw & u should totally read abt em bc they're p epic)


	15. Somnolent Among The Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite New York City being 'the city that never sleeps', Sam and Flint discover that, with the side effects caused by Max, that couldn't be far from the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains a disturbing scene. it is nothing terribly graphic &, in fact, happens off-screen, but it could potentially be upsetting to some viewers. when the line “And what about the remainder?” comes up, be prepared to scroll past if you must.
> 
> please enjoy the chapter.

**Tuesday night, 152:33:15 remaining**

“C’mon, c’mon,  _ c’mon- _ ” Mama Bosco muttered under her breath, ignoring the screen behind her that was giving live updates regarding the giant monster rampage, and more focused on the screen with the loading circle and progress bar on it. She’d had to drastically pick up the speed on calibrating the scanning programming for the drone, and had already run it at least three times only to be met with negative results. She was already wasting too much time, she felt - she had to  _ hurry _ .

The progress bar finally filled up the last few percentages, and the screen flashed a green symbol.

“Yes,  _ yes! _ ” she exclaimed, surprising the man and the clone who’d been keeping an eye on the screen. “Finally!” She yanked out the plug she had attached to it and pocketed a remote, then started walking briskly through the lab towards the exit.

As she passed by Papierwaite, he decided to follow her in her footsteps. “You have it working?”

“I sure do! The scanner’s now up and running so whatever it scans, it’ll appear right on that screen I was staring at.” She opened the door to her building, holding it open for the man before stepping fully outside. “It’ll take a full thirty seconds to scan him - even longer if he keeps moving. Which he will - of course he will - and he’ll probably hear it if it’s there long enough, but I think I’ll be able to pull it off.”

She set down the drone right onto the sidewalk, then pulled out that remote and pressed a button on it. Simultaneously, a small pink light appeared on both the remote and the drone. Pushing up a joystick with just her thumb, the drone began to hover with a small buzzing sound. The man and creature couldn’t help but look in slight awe. “Fascinating,” Yog-Soggoth murmured.

“Very.” She turned and started quickly walking back to the lab again, Papierwaite following behind her. She headed right towards the screen she’d been standing in front of - the Sam clone now following as well out of curiosity - which now showed just outside the building. She started turning the joystick upwards, allowing the drone to rise above the buildings. Once it was well in the air, she suddenly handed it to Papierwaite and said, “Here, you steer.”

“Wh- Pardon?”

“I’d rather have my full focus on the screen to make sure nothing goes wrong, so someone has to steer, and no offense to him-” she pointed at the clone with her thumb, “-but it ain’t gonna be him. Here-” She took his hand and put the remote right in it.

He and the creature looked at it, dumbfounded, but he said, “I’ll try to be careful-”

“Don’t be so nervous.” She waved a hand, not looking at him but rather had her eyes fixed on the screen, leaning her other hand against the panel below it. “Just use the thing in the middle to move it - I won’t let you crash it or anything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, though still seeming uncertain. With just his index finger and thumb, he tilted the joystick forward, lifting his eyes to watch the screen as it showed that the drone was doing the same.  _ So far, so good _ , he felt Yog-Soggoth think (or maybe it was his own thought, too - it was hard to tell sometimes). “Where am I taking this?”

“Good question. Hang on-” She turned to the dog clone. “Sammy, could you turn up the TV?” The clone walked away to do so. As soon as she turned her attention back to the screen, she noticed the man looking at her out of her peripheral. “What?”

“‘Sammy?’” Yog-Soggoth asked.

“Well I had to call him  _ something _ -” she started explaining, but upon hearing the TV being turned up, she focused on that instead. The reporter mentioned the street, and at once she said to ‘Sammy’, “Okay, that’s good,” and made a gesture for him to turn it back down, which he did. “That’s-”

“Downtown,” Papierwaite said, turning the joystick to the right at once, then said, “Sorry - I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ve had plenty of time to memorize this city.”

“Hey, I get it. As long as you know where you’re headed.” The clone stood next to her again, and she kept watch of the screen as the man navigated through the city. After a few minutes, the sight of the amphibian creature came into view. “Oh, good lord,” she murmured. “No offense to him, but he is just a touch freaky.”

“He is only a tiny fraction of what Elder Gods are capable of, in terms of appearance. He’s less frightening than even I.”

Mama Bosco gave him a doubtful look. “...Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Well, obviously not like  _ this _ , I- you know, now that I’m saying it, I’m surprised you nor that man in the glasses are bothered by my presence.”

“Well, I’m a scientist, and he’s a government agent. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

“Alright, now I need you to lower it so it can start scanning,” she instructed Papierwaite. “Try to do it slowly so he doesn’t notice right away.” He started lowering the- “Slower than that.”

“Okay.” He lowered the drone slowly and cautiously. “Just tell me when.”

She watched the screen carefully until a beeping noise came from it. She immediately held up her hand and said, “That’s good.” He stopped. She watched as a smaller screen appeared with a loading circle appeared, and said ‘Scanning in progress’. “Just try to keep following him as he’s moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” As he kept steadily following the gigantic lagomorph, he thought he noticed a movement in one of his ears. “...Did you see that?”

“Yeah. Did it twitch?”

“I think so-” Before he even finished his sentence, Max suddenly looked upwards in the general direction of the drone. “Oh, he’s definitely noticed.”

“Good to know his hearing’s as sensitive as ever,” she muttered sarcastically. “But can he see us? We’re practically like a fly to him-”

“He can see it,” Yog-Soggoth said at once. “His vision is twelve times better than the average person’s. It is certain he can see us.”

“Specifically twelve?”

“Give or take.”

She gave a small sigh. “Is that bad?”

“Well, given that the first instinct of  _ any _ creature is to try and swat at an insect - and not to mention my kind’s instinct of craving destruction wherever they may find it-” This was soon followed by the eighty foot beast giving an annoyed grumble and attempting to swat at the drone, making Papierwaite quickly fly it up out of his reach. “Yes.”

Her eyes had widened at the attempted assault, and looked at the smaller screen in the corner that now said ‘Scan lost’. “Dammit!” She pounded a fist against the panel in frustration. “We can’t stay out of his reach, it won’t scan…” She shook her head. “Screw it - there’s no time to reprogram it. We’ll just have to try and get close without it getting damaged.” She turned to Papierwaite and added, “Which means you have to be  _ extra _ careful with your steering.”

“I can do that,” the man replied, having been mentally told to refrain from commenting just how much trust she was placing in him. He started lowering it back down again, mindful of the large, pink eyes that were fixed on it. The screen beeped again as it resumed its scanning. Not too long after that, the large creature was attempting to hit it again, and this time made the drone turn a sharp right. “How’re we supposed to get anything like this!?”

“Just- keep the camera focused on him as best you can and hope for the best, I guess!” The scientist was eyeing that smaller screen in the corner with anxious eyes, chewing the end of her gloved thumb. Her gaze switched from that to the rest of the screen as Papierwaite frantically tried to keep the drone away from Max, whose grumbles grew more irritated as he kept missing. “C’mon, come  _ on _ -!” she eventually murmured as the original thirty seconds extended well past a minute.

“How much longer!?” Papierwaite asked, having just narrowly avoided smacking into a building while trying to dodge.

“I don’t know, just-”

Before she’d even finished her sentence, the amphibian-like monster had given a loud growl, and proceeded to swing one hand at the drone - and when Papierwaite attempted to flee the other way, there was another hand coming. Before the man could react to avoid the impact, Max crushed the device between his massive, webbed hands, causing the screen to turn to static. “No!” Papierwaite exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Dammit,  _ no-! _ ”

“Wait, wait, hang on-” Mama Bosco moved him out of the way and promptly started tapping on the panel beneath the screen, looking from it to the screen. She moved the now busted drone cam away, and pulled up the scan results instead, the screen needing a moment to load it up. Her, the man, the creature and the clone (he didn’t understand what was happening but he picked up on the panic nonetheless) watched with anticipation, leaning forward slowly as it loaded.

The screen read ‘Scan complete’.

“ _ YES! _ ” she shouted happily, Papierwaite behind her giving a sigh of relief. “We got it!” She turned to him and shook his shoulders in her excitement, saying with a bright smile, “ _ You _ got it -  _ great _ job!”

“Uh-!” He gave a small laugh. “Thank you?”

She let go of him and turned back to the panel at once, pressing away at the buttons so quickly that he couldn’t even register which buttons she was pressing. “Alright, Max,” she said under her breath as she did so. “Let’s see what’s up with you…” 

The screen processed a very rough image of Max as he currently was, a heat map loaded over his body. The majority of his upper body was a mix of red and orange with hints of yellow.

“Well, don’t need a scan to know he’s a little pissed.” She pressed a button and the heat map reloaded, the image now mostly black with a spot of red near his left temple. “Ah! Let’s take a look at that.” Another push of a button, and blinking square hovered over the spot for a moment before text on the screen began to load text. As she looked over it as quickly as it appeared, she frowned. “Oh dear.”

Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth read over her shoulder. “‘Tumour’,” the creature read.

“Mhm. And a pretty nasty one, too.”

“Well, no wonder - his powers increased to incredibly high levels. The mortal brain is so sensitive, it likely formed during his transformati-”

“Wait, so we have  _ less _ time than we’re given?” she asked suddenly, sounding alarmed.

“Pardon?”

“Well- okay.” She turned to look at him. “I didn’t account for him being like this because how  _ could _ I, but I theorized just  _ yesterday _ that overuse could blow up the whole brain. And since Max obviously isn’t some  _ Old God _ naturally, then we have less than a week, right?”

“I suppose that would be a valid concern. But why do you think he’s sleeping in the ocean?”

“Because he’s amphibi-  _ ohhh _ ,” she said with realization. “That does make sense.”

“Now, of course, if he has any build-up, then it could still occur…”

“Maybe we should try dealing with that first, then.”

“I could make something to handle that,” Papierwaite spoke up. “You should focus on finding a solution for his...condition.”

“Sounds like a plan. There’s a table to work on over there if you need it. If you need anything else, you just let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am. I will keep you updated,” he replied, and headed towards the table.

“You realize it may not be as simple as that, yes?” Yog-Soggoth murmured lowly to him. “His condition is far from stable. Who  _ knows _ what side effects there may be.”

“I still have to  _ try _ , do I not?”

“I am just saying - you best be sure you know what you are doing.”

As Papierwaite left to do what he had to, Mama Bosco decided to flip to the third scan, which was power level. Obviously, it was ridiculously high - but then she saw a warning text box appear that read, ‘Dormant brain activity altering effects active.’ She squinted at that. “...Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

. . .

“Y’know,” Flint murmured to Sam, the both of them standing at the window. “I’d almost think it was cool that you can see him all the way over here if not for the situation.”

“...It’s still kinda cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” His eyes remained on the beast in the distance, then glanced over towards Sam. He seemed...distant. Despondent. It was so unlike his usual self that it made him a little extra glad he didn’t decide to leave Sam on his own. “He’s gonna be fine, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know. It just...sucks seein’ him this way.” Flint hummed, looking back out the window again. He saw Sam lower his head a bit out of the corner of his eye. “...This is my fault.”

“Huh?” the man said at once, sounding incredibly surprised by the statement and looking at the dog in confusion. “What’re y’ talkin’ about? ‘Course it’s not your fault.”

“I  _ did _ this to ‘im, Flint. I thought I was helpin’ him, I thought I was savin’ his  _ life _ , but instead I turned him into a- into-” He gestured out the window, shaking his head. “ _ This _ .”

“That doesn’t make it your  _ fault _ , Sam.”

“Doesn’t mean I ain’t responsible.”

“Well-” he started saying, only for the dog to look right at him, making him pause. “...Look, I don’t pretend to fully know the situation, ‘cause I don’t, but given the crap I know you go through, I’m sure there’s a list o’ people who’re more at fault than you.”

“Look,” Sam said as he started wandering away from the window, the man’s eyes following him. “Last time I tried t’ point fingers, I ended up losin’ Max. The least I could do is acknowledge what I’ve done.”

“You... _ have _ acknowledged i- What are ya’ even  _ talkin’ _ about? What even happened the other night? I mean, I don’t wanna sound pushy, but I can’t understand where you’re comin’ from with any o’ this.”

Sam continued to keep his back turned to him, his gaze fixed on the floor, then shut his eyes with a sigh. He really should just tell Flint - he’d already lied to the guy and was lucky to get forgiveness,  _ and _ he was still staying with him despite him no doubt having more important things to do. Telling him the story was the  _ least _ he could do at this point. 

He turned to face the man. “It all started when Max and I-” There was a knock at the door, and he groaned, snapping his attention towards it. “What the  _ hell _ could-”

“Whoa, hey now-” Flint said, briefly touching Sam’s shoulder as he walked past him, “Not so loud.” He went towards the door, readjusting the bottom of his shirt for a moment before opening it. On the other side, there was a woman - but more specifically, a staff member of the hotel. Behind her, there were other staff members standing in front of doors.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she spoke before he even had a chance to ask. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to exit your room.” Flint opened his mouth to make an inquiry, but she continued, “You haven’t done anything wrong - everyone’s being asked to. We’ve been asked to shut down for the night while the monster’s active, it’s been deemed unsafe-”

The dog had immediately felt a touch annoyed at the monster comment, and soon found himself standing right behind Flint, and saying, “Not t’ be  _ that guy _ , but he’s practically on the other side of the city.”

“I understand, sir, but it’s not really my decision-”

“It’s fine, miss,” Flint spoke up at once, holding his hand up at her. “We’ll leave as soon as possible.” She nodded and moved onto the next room, and he looked at Sam with furrowed brows. “Next time, could ya’ maybe not be a jerk to the poor lady?”

The dog was shaking his head, but murmured, “You’re right, that was dumb.” He heaved another sigh and walked past him and into the hall. Flint shut the door behind him and followed behind him. “Thank God we didn’t bother grabbin’ our stuff at the apartment after all, huh?”

“Guess so. Good call by you I suppose.” The man looked at him. “So what were ya’ sayin’ before she knocked?”

“Right. I was sayin’ that this started when Max and I-” He stopped suddenly in his tracks, ears perking forward. “Wait, do ya’ hear that?”

Flint stopped and listened, eventually turning to a nearby door. It sounded like someone saying, ‘Get up! We have to go!’ with the same level of annoyance one would hear in a mother trying to wake her child up for school. “...What about it?”

The dog appeared wary, his brows furrowed and a frown on his face. He couldn’t help but get a bad feeling from hearing that. But given that he couldn’t place exactly why, he decided to say, “Guess I misheard,” and continued on.

“Misheard it as what?” Flint asked, continuing to follow behind him.

“Could’ve sworn I heard them say ‘help me get him up’...”

“...Well, thankfully it wasn’t that,” was all he said. “Now, about-”

“Y’know, maybe we should just wait ‘til we’re back in the car so I stop gettin’ interrupted.”

“Fair enough.”

The two eventually reached the elevator - though, upon seeing the swarm of people in front of it, they decided to follow the lead of a few others and take the stairs down instead. Upon reaching the lobby, there was a swarm of people in there, so cramped that there were people remaining on the stairs just to try and make space in the actual lobby. 

The amount of chatter going on was bordering on deafening in the smaller space, and Flint had to raise his voice just to ask, “What the hell is goin’ on in here?”

Sam would’ve responded, but he was more focused on the police near the front entrance and the man in the suit in front of them that looked like he was arguing with them or telling them off. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and started making his way down the stairs, pushing past the people standing there. 

The man was busy looking around, and only noticed Sam was leaving when he turned to him to tell him something. “Sam?” he called after his friend, who only continued forward. “Sam, wait!” He started following after him, murmuring ‘excuse me’ to those he went past.

Sam continued through the crowd, ignoring the protests of the people he walked past. He stopped only once he was close enough to overhear the words of the man in the suit. “...Don’t understand, are we supposed to evacuate the building or stay inside!?”

“Sir, the streets aren’t safe, they’re very unpredictable right now-”

“It’s bad enough I have t’ ask people t’ leave, now you’re makin’ me tell ‘em, ‘actually, ya’ have t’ stay in the lobby’!?”

“We are just trying to keep a handle on the situation-”

“Well, you’re doin’ a shit job!”

“What’s happenin’, Sam-o?” Flint asked once he reached the dog, startling him a bit.

Sam turned to him and replied, “They asked people t’ leave, now they won’t let ‘em out the door.”

“So they’re just keepin’ all these people in the lobby?”

“They’re completely confused,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “They have no idea what they’re-” His gaze lifted to see the elevator open. “-doing…”

Flint was a little confused at why Sam had trailed off at first, until he followed his gaze and noticed the small group of people carrying out a person, now looking with alarm. “What the-?” he murmured, though it was drowned out by all the other noise.

The people called something, but it got lost over the noise. “What was that?” someone managed to yell over everything, causing other people to turn their attention towards the commotion.

“Is there a doctor in here!?” Sam somehow managed to recognize the voice from what he’d overheard from the floor they were on. Flint must have recognized it as well, because the two were making eye contact, and soon found themselves both trying to get closer to  _ that _ situation instead. The crowd started splitting off somewhat, to make room for the group to lie the person down.

There were a few people headed towards them, and one of them asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know,” the person who’d been shouting - a lady - said to him. “He’s usually a light sleeper, but he ain’t wakin’ up. I called an ambulance already-”

“Good call. Here, lemme check on him. Has he taken anything?”

“Not that I know of…”

“That’s a li’l freaky,” Flint murmured. Sam hummed in response. The man’s attention then ended up turning towards the stairs for a moment, and he did a double take, then promptly tapped Sam’s arm then pointed towards them. The dog turned his head and watched as there were other people bringing down an unconscious person. “...Weird coincidence?” he asked Sam. The elevator then  _ ding _ ed, and there was yet another unconscious person, their whole body weight leaned against a single person, causing other people to step forward to assist them.

“A pattern,” Sam replied decisively, pulling out a phone from his pocket.

“Who ya’ callin’?”

“Doctor Bosco.” He had the phone to his ear. He kept an eye on the situation unfolding in front of him. The phone rang a few times before sending him to voicemail. “Dammit,” he muttered, pocketing the phone.

“She not answerin’?”

“No. We gotta go right to her place, she’s gotta know about this just in case.”

“You go ahead without me. I wanna stay here just in case.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah. I’ll keep ya’ updated if anything’s up.”

He nodded. “Alright. You let me know if ya’ need picked up or anything. Stay outta trouble while I’m gone, will ya’?”

“Same t’ you, pal.”

Sam proceeded to push through the crowd of people - now made a little easier thanks to their attention being towards the alarming situation near the stairs and elevators - and completely ignored the cops that noticed him leaving at the last second and shouted at him in an attempt to stop him, heading straight for the DeSoto, firing it up and speeding off.

The radio had turned on upon starting the engine, and out of some morbid curiosity, he turned it up. At once, there was a reporter saying, “ _...Calls are continuing to flood in as evacuating buildings are finding more and more people unable to awaken- _ ”

Sam’s attention snapped away from the radio in surprise upon hearing a siren, looking in his rearview mirror briefly before pulling aside. Shortly after, an ambulance was speeding past him - and coming the opposite way, there was another ambulance that took a turn right and kept going towards what Sam had a feeling was a local neighbourhood.

“What are ya’  _ doin’ _ to ‘em, li’l buddy…?” Sam asked quietly under his breath, before taking the car out of park and continuing onwards.

. . .

The ship rumbled as it slowly descended into the water just in front of the statue, giving a hiss once it was fully stopped. “No concern for it getting waterlogged, I presume?” Stinky asked.

“The seal on the ship is still in working order,” Skun-ka’pe replied patiently as the ramp lowered. “It is as safe from being flooded as it would be being in the depths of space.” The lady merely hummed, still seated on the ’throne’ with no sign of moving. “...Are you choosing to remain here?”

“I’m not interested in your toy scavenger hunt, no. Why?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Is that an issue?”

The space gorilla eyed her for a moment. “...No. I suppose not.” As some of his crew members walked past him and started going down the ramp, he added, “We should not be long.”

“Take your time.”

He continued to stare at her, but she wasn’t even looking at him, so he decided to continue on after his crew. “...You do not trust him either,” Sammun-Mak spoke only once the general had left, catching Stinky’s attention. “Do you?”

She raised a brow at the question, crossing her arms. “Do  _ you? _ ”

“Of  _ course _ not.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“We wanted to be sure. After all, you  _ did _ go to him first. It seems peculiar to turn to someone you distrust for assistance.”

She seemed like she was going to respond to that, but then shook her head and said, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“It also seems like a very  _ unfavourable _ decision to make.”

“Yeah, well it  _ is _ ,” she snapped. “Believe me, he was  _ far _ from my first choice.”

“You  _ were _ saying you had a partner-”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, shooting a glare his way.

The brain went silent, and for a moment she thought the conversation was over. But then he said, “I had a partner once.”

She wouldn’t have cared if not for noticing the fact that he dropped the stupid ‘we’ pronoun when referring to himself. It had surprised her, and she’d found herself eyeing him briefly before saying, “Really.”

“Mhm. His name was Ramses. We were really good friends for a while...”

Somehow, it only occurred to her now that she was, in fact, speaking to the brain of a child. A child whose actual age was completely beyond her, but a child nonetheless. Not that she particularly  _ cared _ , per se, but she couldn’t help but notice the innocence in the statement. “...Guessing he bit it too, huh.”

“Unfortunately so. And the worst part of it was it was completely my fault.” She refused to voice this, but she certainly felt that. “And I did so many irrational things after the fact.”

Maybe she was jumping the gun a bit on this one, but she found herself narrowing her eyes slightly. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not saying that generally?”

“Because I’m not.” She gave a light scoff and rolled her eyes. “You may not wish to hear it, and I cannot say I was not the same once, but if one thing must be said, it is that whatever you are searching in partnering with the likes of  _ him _ , you are not going to find anything. He has no intention of helping you-”

“Y’know what?” she interrupted. “I think I can make that judgement myself. I don’t need some brain in a jar doing my thinking for me. Besides - why the hell do you even care? We don’t know each other.”

“Yet here we are in the same trap.”

She laughed at that. “I am  _ not _ trapped.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No! Not that I need to prove anything to you, but you’ll see. I have more control here than either of you realize.”

The brain hummed doubtfully. “Suit yourself.”

At the same time that conversation was occurring, Skun-ka’pe was searching the base of the large statue for any sign of the Chthonic Destroyer, his fellow space gorillas searching along with him. “We are certain that this is where it is located?” he asked Irwin.

“That sure is what th’ map had said, yeah.”

“Do you suppose it might be-” he started asking, glancing upwards towards the top of the statue.

“Hey, Skun-ka’pe!” Rory called from the other side suddenly. “Come check this out!” He and Irwin exchanged a brief glance before heading towards the other gorilla. 

When they showed up, there were other crew members standing near Rory, looking inside an opened door in confusion. Skun-ka’pe quietly slipped past a few of them and had Rory move aside. He soon found that there were those dog clones huddled in there, seeming incredibly fearful. “Odd,” the General murmured, “These almost look nothing like the ones we encountered.”

“Yeah, their eyes aren’t all glow-y,” Irwin commented.

“What should we do with ‘em?” Jerome asked.

“Well, the Destroyer does not appear to be down here, which means it may be near the  _ top _ of the statue instead,” Skun-ka’pe said. “Start clearing them out.”

The space gorillas did so, which did not take as long as one would expect - the clones, though fearful, seemed fairly obedient. Skun-ka’pe could hardly believe that these were supposed to be replicas of that  _ mutt _ , of all the stubborn people. Eventually, though there were still clones remaining, there was enough room for him to safely enter, and so he did. “Wait, boss!” Rory spoke up, making him pause and look at him. “Don’t you want any of us to go with you?”

“No. These stairs are thin, and the climb is awful high. I would rather go alone and you stay down here. Just be patient - I will be right back.”

The gorillas did as they were instructed, and he began going up the stairs. It took quite a bit to reach the top, but eventually he found the large hole still in the statue’s head, looking at it with a raised brow before climbing out of it. He scanned around for a moment before noticing something glinting in the corner of his vision. Upon looking in its direction, he found the toy robot lying there with burn marks on it.

His amber eyes lit up at once, a toothy grin appearing. He went over and picked it up, but the toy’s eyes lit up red, and it said ‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER. PLEASE RETURN IT TO THE ONE WHO POSSESSES IT.** ’

His grin faded at once, his eyes widening in surprise. “... _ What? _ ” he said angrily. “What do you  _ mean _ ‘return it to the one who possesses it’!?”

‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER.** ’ it repeated. ‘ **PLEASE RETURN IT TO THE ONE WHO POSSESSES IT.** ’

He gave a low, frustrated growl. What sort of joke was this!? None of the other toys had ever had such a restriction like this. “Who could the owner  _ possibly be!? _ ”

‘ **SAMUEL BARKLEY** .’

His frustration faded at once, and at first he appeared confused - after all, how could  _ Sam _ be the owner of such a powerful weapon? But then a look of cool realization dawned on him. With a new idea in mind, he turned and started heading back down.

“You found it!” Everett said joyfully upon seeing the robot in his leader’s hand, his exclamation earning excited looks from his other crew members.

“I have,” Skun-ka’pe responded calmly, “But I am afraid it cannot be used by myself.”

“What?” Tire questioned, surprised. “Whatever do you mean?”

“There is some sort of spell on it that prevents it from being used by anyone other than the ‘owner’.” His fellow crew members appeared both confused and disappointed, so he continued, “Thankfully, the ‘owner’, as the Destroyer claims, is none other than our doggy friend.”

“ _ Him? _ ” asked Irwin. “But we got no idea where  _ he _ is.”

“We do not. But at the same time-” he gestured to the clones. “We do.”

There was a brief murmur of realization, and Rory proceeded to speak up, “Should we bring one of them with us, then?”

“I have thought about it, and I see no reason to bring only one. After all, how often is it to find potential test subjects with the will of that of a deceased land slug? It could come in very handy. We should gather as many of them as there are cells.”

“And what about the remainder?”

The General looked from the younger gorilla towards the puzzled and still very much frightened clones. “They are clones. Their lives have no real meaning. It would be more merciful to destroy them here than leave them to starve on this slab.”

“Yes, sir,” they all said to him, and moved forwards to follow their orders.

He moved past them and back towards the ship. Upon entering, he could see that the lady was still where he’d left her, and she looked over at him as soon as he walked in. “I know I said take your time, but I didn’t think you’d take that so literally.”

“My apologies that my business does not conveniently adhere to your ever so time sensitive schedule,” he replied sarcastically. 

“What were you even doing that was taking so long?” She noticed the robot in his hand. “Oh. See you found your silly little toy.”

“Indeed I have.”

She wasn’t going to say anything else, but she saw the crew members begin to escort- well, more like  _ shoving _ a few of the clones into the ship. She blinked, and raised a brow. “What are  _ those _ things doing here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Are there any more-” She just barely managed to get her sentence out before there was the sound of several shots being fired outside, which seemed to go on and on for a full minute before finally ceasing.

Skun-ka’pe simply shook his head. “No. There are not.” The two shared a look for a long moment - Stinky having a slight wariness in her eye while he seemed completely relaxed and almost  _ pleased _ \- before he decided to turn his attention elsewhere, knowing well that Stinky was eyeing him carefully but choosing to ignore it.

. . .

“Mama Bosco?” the scientist and sorcerer heard Sam call, making them both flinch - which resulted in something on the table Papierwaite was working on to blow up a puff of smoke, and him cussing in French.

“Over here, Sam!” she called to him, then looked at Papierwaite and asked, “Everything good?”

“Oh, yes, everything is fine,” he replied calmly, though he did have a slight frustrated furrow of his brow. As soon as Sam entered the lab, he turned to him and said, “There are much less  _ sudden _ ways to announce your presence.”

“It’s urgent,” was all Sam said, unapologetic.

“What is?” Mama Bosco asked, raising her goggles from her eyes to her forehead.

“Look, I ain’t sure if Max is knockin’ people out or if he’s keepin’ ‘em asleep, but I just came back from seein’ three people bein’ carried down, completely unconscious and not wakin’ up at all.”

“ _ What? _ ” She sounded shocked.

Yog-Soggoth, on the other hand, did not appear to be shocked in the slightest. “Ah, of course,” he hummed.

“What, what is it?”

“Max’s form and powers are no longer self-sustaining as they were when he and the energies of the Toybox were separate. He’s too large, his abilities too grand - if he does not feed off of  _ something _ , he would grow too weak. He must be taking advantage of his seemingly nocturnal nature by praying on those too drowsy to remain awake, feeding on the energy given off by dreams…”

“...That’s something he can just... _ do? _ ” Sam questioned, appearing a little perturbed.

“Of course! Why,  _ Junior _ did that when he was first born. It is a very common method among my kind’s young.”

“That’s-” Mama Bosco started saying, then said, “Wait a minute…” She thought back to the scans she’d gotten, and snapped her gloved fingers. “That’s what that means!”

“What does what mean?” the dog asked.

“I had gotten a scan of Max earlier- oh, it’s a tumour that’s causing a lot of this mess by the way, Sam.”

“Oh,  _ goody _ .”

“Anyway, it had given me this warning box that said ‘Dormant brain activity altering effects active.’ And I was looking at it like ‘what could this possibly mean?’ But this must be it!” She tapped a finger against her head, and said, “He must be giving something off up here in order to keep these people unconscious- dare I say  _ comatose? _ ”

“That would be correct, yes,” Yog-Soggoth confirmed. “Often our young had...a hard time releasing their victims once they got ahold of them.”

“So what you’re saying,” Sam said, “Is that my bo- best friend is behaving  _ just _ like an Elder God baby.”

“Behaving - and practically  _ is _ . His few decades of life to  _ me _ would be the equivalent of mere  _ weeks _ to you, frankly.”

“Jesus-” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “And what’d ya’ say it was? A tumour?”

“That’s right,” Mama Bosco nodded. “Just as I had told you about before - the overuse thing?”

“Right, yeah. Can ya’ fix it?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“And don’t worry about his head exploding!” Papierwaite chimed in, “I’m making a spell to take care of it.”

The scientist looked at his with a slight grimace, while Sam looked at him with wide eyes. “...Well I  _ wasn’t _ worried about that,” he said, “But  _ now _ I am and I’m not very reassured in the slightest.”

Papierwaite realized his error in blurting that out, and was going to say something, but Mama Bosco shook her head, and just said, “Papierwaite, just get back to making the spell.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said at once, and returned to his work.

“Sorry, I’m just- j-just still hung up on that-” Sam stammered, visibly panicked now. 

“Sam- Sam,” she tried to say, calmly.

“His head’s goin’ to  _ explode!? _ ”

“No, no, hun.” She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders, looked him right in the eye, and said, “Nothing of that sort is going to happen.”

“Didn’t  _ you _ say that, too?”

“I did, yes, but-”

“So it  _ is _ goin’ t’ happen!”

“No, no it’s not. Okay, he’s been sleeping in the ocean, he’ll be fine.”

“ _ Because he’s  _ **_amphbi_ ** _ - _ oh.”

“Right. He’s keeping himself cooled off, so nothing in that cranium of his is gonna overheat.”

“Okay...that still doesn’t  _ help _ , I mean-” He gestured to the man, and said, “Why’s he workin’ on a spell for it if it’s not gonna-”

“It’s just a precaution. Okay? It’s to  _ ensure _ it doesn’t happen. A hundred percent.”

“You’re a scientist, you don’t say that. You don’t say ‘a hundred percent’-”

“Okay, realistically, 98.7 percent. But those odds are still pretty good!” Sam hummed doubtfully. “Hey, listen to me. I am  _ determined _ to save him, okay? I am willing to do  _ everything _ it takes to get him out of this-” She lowered her voice, “And between you and me, I don’t plan on having anything happen to him even  _ after _ the week is up, if it goes that far. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“...I do,” he mumbled, nodding. “...Do you mind moving your-”

“Oh, yes.” She took her hands off his shoulders. “Sorry about that - old habit.” The dog merely hummed, though gave a reassuring smile to indicate it wasn’t too big of a deal. “One question I do have, though,” she said, folding the edges of her open lab coat over each other and crossing her arms over it. “If you don’t mind answering.”

“Shoot.”

“Where exactly  _ were _ you to see these comatose people? I mean, from what I understand, your building’s still closed.”

“I- uh,” he faltered, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing well what her reaction was going to be when he told her this. “I was, uh- crashin’ in a hotel with Flint.”

“You mean to say you had nowhere else, and you didn’t  _ tell _ me?”

“I didn’t wanna be a bother-”

“Uh-uh. I mean, thank God you were there t’ see it, I guess, but- no. No, no. You should stay here, both of you.”

“In the... _ condemned _ building?”

“It’s not structurally unsound or biohazardous, it’s just...a little damaged than recommended.”

“Ah. That makes everything better.”

“Ironically, it’s safer than being in a hotel or being out on the streets. Get Flint over here as safely as you can and find yourself a decent room upstairs.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll give him a call.” She nodded, and proceeded to return to whatever it was she was working on. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to call Flint. It rang twice before the other end was picked up. “What’s happenin’, Flint?”

“ _ Ambulance just took off, but there’s another one on the way. There're at least seven people unconscious, total - all of which were about middle-aged or older. _ ”

“Damn,” he muttered.

“ _ What did the Doc say? _ ”

“According t’ her,” he said, deciding to not include the fact that most of the information had, in fact, come from some weird creature coming out of a guy’s chest, “Max is doin’ a funky thing t’ try and sustain himself. Puttin’ people in comas and feedin’ off o’ the energy their dreams give off.”

“ _ Darn...that really blows for those people and their families, don’t it? _ ”

“It does. Look, I’m comin’ right back to get ya’, okay? She’s sayin’ we should stick around her place since we got nowhere else t’ go.”

“ _ In the condemned building? _ ”

“Yes, Flint. In the condemned building. Just wait up, alright, I’ll be there in a few.”

“ _ Be careful out there, Sam. _ ”

. . .

Stinky was staring into the glass cell with her arms crossed, the clone inside huddled and shaking in the corner. “So, just to make sure we’re on the same page - you decided to basically kidnap these guys-” She turned and looked right at the Chthonic Destroyer sitting near the steering, nodding towards it. “-just to use  _ that? _ ”

“For the most part, yes,” Skun-ka’pe replied.

“What is it, a weapon? You trust  _ these _ morons with a  _ weapon? _ ”

“Perhaps they are moronic, but they are also obedient. Whatever it is I need them to do, they will do it.”

“What are you planning on using it for, sir?” Everett asked.

“To take down that  _ monstrosity _ .” The general pointed out the window towards the amphibian beast. “But that is not all. When we are through with him, we will harvest his brain matter.” Sammun-Mak tensed at that statement but remained quiet. “We will preserve it, and use it for the ship. With a brain that large, we could spend  _ years _ before ever needing to track down another Psychic.”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Stinky said. Skun-ka’pe glanced in her direction but otherwise paid no attention to her.

“But what about our mission?” Everett spoke again. “If the rest of the Toys of Power are gone, then what are we to do after this? We can’t just go home...”

“Our mission is not over simply because they are gone. Yes, they have been a target of ours for years, but the end goal was, and always has been to conquer the galaxy with an iron fist. To show them what we are made of, and leave them shattered and broken, kneeling under our feet. And there are other means to do that…”

  
The lady was now more focused on the clones in their cages. An idea was slowly occurring to her - an idea that involved these clones and the notion of her removing her grandfather’s brain. But she decided to keep quiet about it for now. Truthfully, she had believed what Sammun-Mak had said earlier in that Skun-ka’pe had no intention of assisting her. Just  _ listening _ to him, for God’s sake - he was clearly far more wrapped up in his own business. However, she had to keep a level head, not call him out on it. Even if  _ he _ himself was unwilling to be of use, she still found that his otherworldly resources may come in handy...


	16. The Old God Stirs...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam suffers through the longest week of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just gonna give a random shoutout to my grandma because she's been supporting my writing since day one & easily my #1 fan & she's very cool & very epic & i love her. hope you're enjoying the story gram-gram

**Wednesday morning, 142:50:14 remaining**

“ _ Mysterious dog army showing up, a giant monster attack - one wouldn’t expect that it couldn’t get any more alarming than that. But last night, there had been reportedly several calls to 911 in regards to people falling asleep and not waking up. There are about fifty people currently in hospital, completely unconscious, and medical professionals are stating that they may all be in a comatose state- _ ”

“So, uh- just get me on the same page here, Sam,” Flint said as they watched the morning news. He pointed at the Sam clone nearby, and said, “So this is your clone?”

“Yup,” Sam confirmed.

“And the dude with the guy comin’ out of his chest…”

“Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth. One’s a sorcerer, the other’s an Elder God. I’m sure I don’t need t’ specify which is which.”

“ _ Right _ ,” the man mumbled, scratching his head. “And, uh- how exactly do you know them? And how did...the clones get here?”

He sighed. “Well-”

“It’s finished!” Papierwaite exclaimed, interrupting the dog before he could start explaining, catching everybody’s attention.

“What is?” Flint inquired.

“A spell t’ keep Max’s head from exploding,” Sam explained in a mutter.

“Ah, gotcha.” Pause. “Wait, what.”

“How’re you gonna cast it?” Mama Bosco asked, looking at the beaker of yellow-orange liquid with a mix of wariness and curiosity, a hand on her chin.

“All I have to do,” Papierwaite explained, “is make this become aura-borne, and transfer it to Max. It should be able to put a cap on his powers, and keep them from climbing to literal mind-blowing levels. It will not stop the ‘putting people in comas’ thing, but it is a start.”

“Okay, just- pause. Just for a second,” Sam spoke up, attention turning to him now. “I’m not familiar with magic, like, at  _ all _ , so imagine my concern - are you sure this is gonna help him? And not...do somethin’ worse t’ him?”

“With the utmost respect to you, sir, what could be worse than his head bursting into flames?”

“Don’t be a smartass. I’m just askin’ if you’re  _ sure _ ya’ know what you’re doin’. ‘Cause ya’ already screwed up one spell and it cost ya’ big, so, y’know.” He gave a light shrug.

The man frowned, looking mildly irritated at having his abilities question yet knew he couldn’t particularly argue. “I will admit that I am not fully certain on what the effects may be. But I  _ am _ certain that it will prevent him from dying and taking out half the city with him.”

Sam paused for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

“Perfect. Now, I am going to go to his resting place-”

“Don’t phrase it like that.”

“-Where he’s  _ sleeping _ ,” Papierwaite corrected himself, “to make  _ complete _ sure that it gets to him.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Mama Bosco said.

The sorcerer gave a nod, then proceeded to take his leave. After he exited the lab, Flint, visibly confused, turned to Sam and said, “You  _ really _ have t’ catch me up on this stuff…”

“Look, all ya’ need t’ know right now,” Sam replied, “Is that Max has psychic powers, they’ve gone haywire, overuse could cause his head to explode, and magic man over there’s gonna try t’ keep that from happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ‘m gonna head upstairs and relax. My legs are killin’ me.”

Sam walked past his friend, who merely stood there with a thoughtful expression for a long moment before murmuring, “That didn’t help anything at all.”

“...He hasn’t really explained anything to you,” Mama Bosco asked, raising a brow. “Has he?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not really. I mean, I’ve been givin’ him the benefit of the doubt, ‘cause I’m sure it ain’t a good story. But at the rate we’re goin’, I probably shouldn’t be outta the loop.”

“I completely agree. Here, pull up a seat.” She gestured to a nearby chair. “I’ll tell you what he told me while I’m working on this.”

Flint blinked for a moment. Wait - Sam had told  _ her _ this story before he told him? He’d never mentioned saying it to anyone...and though he wouldn’t say he was  _ envious _ that someone else knew before him, he wasn’t gonna lie - it kind of hurt, being the one person kept out of the loop. Then again, it seemed like Sam was doing that to him quite a bit lately…

The lady noticed that he hadn’t moved at all, and frowned. “...Are you okay?”

“Uh-” he blinked again, and shook his head. “Yeah, no. Fine. Just...I mean, guess it was kinda silly t’ think you  _ wouldn’t _ know.”

“It’s really not. If anything, I’m shocked that  _ you _ don’t yet.”

“...Yeah. Same here.” After a moment’s pause, he sighed through his nose, and said, “I’ll go grab that chair, and then you can tell me.”

“Sounds good.”

. . .

“The sun is up once again,” Skun-ka’pe was stating to his crew, with Stinky once again seated away from the rest of them. “We should attack while he is still resting.”

“A classic tactic!” Rory said. The lady couldn’t help roll her eyes - God, why’d they have to be so obvious with their  _ bootlicking _ sometimes?

“Irwin, release one of the subjects-” Referring to the clones, “-from their prison.”

Irwin obeyed, proceeding to go up to the glass tank and approach the keypad - to which Stinky paid fairly close attention as he punched in the code, though quickly looked away when he briefly glanced in her direction. Soon, there was a whirring sound as the glass slowly ascended up, though the clone was still in the corner and refusing to budge. Irwin had to go in there personally and yank him to his feet and manhandle him out, eventually giving him a rough shove towards the general.

The clone shook and looked at the pale space gorilla with wide eyes. Skun-ka’pe held out his hand wordlessly, and at once one of his other crew members handed him the Chthonic Destroyer. “Give me your hand,” he instructed the dog. The clone didn’t move. “ _ Give it, _ ” he growled, startling the dog clone and making him hold out both hands, still trembling. The gorilla gave a small, pleased smile, then handed the toy robot to the clone.

‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL THE CHTHONIC DESTROYER. PLEASE RETURN IT TO THE ONE WHO POSSESSES IT.** ’

A tense silence fell over the room, though the clone didn’t react, seeming completely clueless to what the robot’s words had meant. Skun-ka’pe’s smile had fallen, replaced with a rage in those amber eyes, which sent a new wave of fear through the dog. The others were watching warily.

The general snarled, backhanding the Destroyer out of the clone’s hands, making him yelp in surprise, which was cut off by Skun-ka’pe’s clawed hand going right for his throat-

“Hey,  _ hey! _ ” Stinky shouted, leaving her spot and quickly rushing over while saying, “Let him go-”

“He is  _ useless! _ Can’t even wield the Destroyer as intended-”

Surprisingly enough, even for her, she was prying his hand off of the clone’s neck and giving the clone a light shove to get between him and the space gorilla, who looked even more pissed at her intervening. “Quit friggin’  _ massacring _ these guys. It’s pointless.”

“And who are  _ you _ to tell  _ me _ what to-”

“Okay, I get it. You’re a big, scary warlord guy and murdering first and asking questions later is more your thing, but just stop and  _ think _ for a second. Maybe he still  _ can _ use it. Or- hell, maybe  _ you _ could even use it.”

“It is a  _ spell _ casted undoubtedly by primordial  _ gods _ -”

“Spells can be  _ removed _ , numbnuts. There’s gotta be  _ someone _ who knows about this sorta thing enough to get it off.”

Skun-ka’pe looked as if he was going to argue, then paused, his expression turning thoughtful, then looking as if an idea had occurred to him. However, it faded, and he narrowed his eyes at her again. “Be honest with me - why do you want this mongrel spared,  _ really? _ ”

She answered at once: “I wanna switch my so-called ‘grandfather’s’ brain with the brain of one of these morons.” She pointed at the dog behind her with her thumb.

The general eyed the clone for a moment, a hand on his chin before a look of understanding. “You switch them, and it would be as if he never died at all…”

“ _ Exactly. _ No one would be able to prove that I did anything. They’d chock it up to his age  _ finally _ catching up with him.”

“Impressive,” he murmured with a smile, though it soon faded. “But before I allow you that, I must gain access to the Destroyer first.”

“Seriously? It would take me an  _ hour _ , tops-”

“My ship. My subjects. My terms. Remember -  _ you _ came to me.” Stinky said nothing - she simply gave an annoyed look at him. “Get the clone back in the cell,” he instructed the nearest space gorilla. As soon as the dog clone realized the minion was coming towards him, he cowered and attempted to clutch onto Girl Stinky. However, he was soon removed by the gorilla, and taken back towards the glass cage. “I already have a plan in mind, but unfortunately it will require waiting until sunset-”

“What?” she asked, “ _ Why? _ ”

“ _ Because _ ,” he said, sounding a little irritated by her questioning, “I would prefer making my move while there is chaos. It gives my potential opponent less options and makes him prone to making more errors-”

“What opponent? What the hell are y-”

“Every war requires  _ patience _ ,” he snapped. “So I will lie in wait until it is safe to take my  _ chance _ .”

“...’War’, huh.”

“Yes, miss Stinky. This is, in fact, a war. Perhaps you, nor anyone else has realized it yet, but I have been through enough to recognize it when I see it. If you have an issue with that, you are completely free to leave.”

She continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes, before casually straightening her posture. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been patient for years.” She then proceeded to return to the ‘throne’, crossing her leg over her knee once she was seated on it. “This is nothing.”

“Perfect,” he replied. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

. . .

**Wednesday night, 129:07:48 remaining**

The group inside the lab stood and looked up at the screen as it was giving live updates regarding Max. Flint had been glancing over at Sam every few moments, but the dog didn’t seem to notice - he was far too focused on what was happening on the screen.

Mama Bosco had told Flint everything, and it had been...a  _ lot _ to take in, to say the least. And though it still sucked that his friend from college decided not to tell him first, he supposed he could at least understand why Sam wouldn’t wish to talk about it. Even what little he  _ had _ told him - about the brain incident - sounded traumatizing as hell. The whole story, however, seemed downright emotionally taxing. And now he couldn’t help feeling more worried than ever for the dog’s mental wellbeing. How much could the guy take before crumbling under all of this pressure?

To sum up that internal tangent; Flint was planning on keeping a close eye on him more than he already intended to.

“...There’s somethin’ not right here,” Sam murmured, a hand resting over his mouth with his other hand on his elbow. “He’s been actin’ off all night. That’s not just me, is it? He’s not actin’ right?”

“No, I see it,” Yog-Soggoth replied quietly, observing the TV carefully.

All night, Max had seemed a little more sluggish - ‘an expected side effect,’ Papierwaite had said. After all, he’d had his powers weakened, for lack of a better way of phrasing it. It was to be expected that he’d be a little slower, a little more lethargic. And while reporters had been stating that this appeared to be a good sign, Sam - and Yog-Soggoth, for that matter - considered the opposite to be true.

“It is nothing to worry about,” Papierwaite said with certainty, though he wasn’t certain at all. “If anything, this is an improvement. If he can simply behave like this until-”

“No,” Sam interrupted. “No, no, see, you- you don’t understand. This isn’t an improvement, this is just the gateway t-”

“ _ Wait, hold on, _ ” the reporter said suddenly, sounding confused, getting everyone’s attention. “ _ He just stopped right in his tracks. _ ”

On the TV, Max could be seen standing in one place, swaying slightly for a moment. He inhaled deeply - and then was suddenly breathing a harsh jet of flame right from his mouth. He breathed it around himself steadily, and from the flames there were what appeared to be... _ flaming Max heads _ emerging, each one of them grinning widely as they scattered through the air. The amphibian beast soon stopped breathing fire and huffed through his nose, shaking his head slightly and seeming a little less tired now.

While the reporter was in complete shock, and then trying to explain the situation with an extreme amount of uncertainty, everyone in the lab was standing in the lab looking on in horror, speechless.

“ _ Dammit _ , Anton!” Yog-Soggoth finally broke the silence. “You made him generate  _ spores! _ ”

“...What’s a spore?” Sam asked weakly, clutching his chest. “What is that? What are spores?”

“On the incredibly  _ rare _ occasion that an Elder God fell ill,” he proceeded to explain tiredly, pressing a tentacle against his forehead, “They were likely to start spawning spores to try and lull people to sleep as a means to heal themselves.”

“So he’s  _ sick? _ ” Without waiting for an answer, his gaze snapped to Papierwaite, rage clear in his expression. “Ya’ made my li’l buddy  _ sick!? _ ”

“It was an unforeseen side effect-” Papierwaite admitted.

“Of  _ COURSE _ it was unforeseen, dumbass, how the hell could ya’ foresee  _ this!? _ ”

The man’s brows furrowed, and he took a step towards him. “It was not my  _ intention _ t-”

“Okay, no-  _ ENOUGH! _ ” Mama Bosco shouted, startling the group, before quickly going over and getting between them. “No hostility in my lab - both of you! Is that clear?” There was a quiet murmur of ‘yes ma’am’ - though Sam’s was more of a reluctant grumble. She looked at Papierwaite, and asked with a stern tone, “ _ Did _ you make him sick?”

“Not intentio-”

“I know it wasn’t intentional, but  _ did _ you?”

“Not necessarily. Again, all I did was put a limit on how much his powers could build up as to keep the worst from happening. His body must simply be reacting to the spell as if he’s ill…”

“That’s still not  _ good _ ,” Sam muttered.

“It’s better than hi-!” he started arguing, but saw the glare he was receiving from the scientist and decided to back down. He gave a small sigh, and said, “I could probably do something about the spores-”

Mama Bosco shook her head at once. “Look, you’re a good guy. And I’m very grateful for your help. But after... _ that _ display, I think  _ I  _ will try to handle that situation.”

“...Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Uh-” Flint cleared his throat. The others looked at him. “Just- frankly, here- just bein’  _ completely _ honest, um...as crappy as Max bein’ a li’l under the weather is...I’m a li’l more concerned about the entire neighbourhood bein’ set on fire.”

Silence. “...Yeah, that really sucks, too,” Sam mumbled, monotone. “Hopefully they’re alright.”

“...You sound oddly  _ not _ concerned.”

“Well-”

“Look, everyone,” the scientist said, waving her hands, “Just go upstairs, go do your own thing while I work on this. I need a little more concentration for this…”

. . .

On the other side of the city, the ship was landing near the Museum of Mostly Natural History, causing large cracks in the pavement underneath it to form without breaking the concrete. Stinky looked out the window and read the sign of the building, and gave a pretty judgemental look. “You waited all day to break into a  _ museum? _ ”

“You’d be surprised at the sort of power the curator possesses,” Skun-ka’pe replied.

“...Surprisingly enough, I doubt that.”

As the rumble of the engine died down to silence, he asked, “Staying again, I presume?”

“Read my mind.”

He nodded in understanding (and not failing to realize the irony of her statement). “I am not certain how long this will take.”

There was a hiss as the ramp started lowering, and he made a motion for his fellow crew members to follow him. They all started doing so without a second thought - except for Irwin, who remained in his spot and asked, “Sir, maybe one of use should stay back and watch the ship.”

That made the other space gorillas pause and look at him. “And why is that?” the General asked - not in annoyance, but in genuinely curiosity, clearly wishing to hear what was currently on his mind.

“I don’t trust ‘er,” he said bluntly, “I feel like she’s up t’ somethin’ sketchy.”

Stinky and Skun-ka’pe exchanged a look. He tried to get a read on her, but her expression was as indifferent as ever. He looked back to Irwin. “I appreciate the concern, truly. However, if you cannot trust your judgement of her, then trust mine.”

“But sir, I-” he started protesting, wanting to mention that he’d caught her eyeing the keypad when he’d punched in the code for it earlier, but the pale gorilla raised a brow - a look that the younger alien knew meant that he was questioning and doubting too much - so he stopped. “...I do.”

“Wonderful. Then come join the rest of us.”

“Yes, sir.” He then followed the rest of his crew out, but not without flashing Stinky a look of warning.

“...You’ve been awfully quiet for a while,” she said towards Sammun-Mak once it was just the two of them alone.

“There is not much for us to say.”

She considered that for a moment, then gave a shrug. “Fair enough.”

“...He’s going to kill me.” She was a little caught off-guard by the statement, but remained silent. “You know that, right? As soon as he destroys that monster...”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking that,” she admitted, “But given the amount of murder-slash-attempted murder he’s been doing in the past twenty-four hours, I can’t say I don’t believe you.” She got up from her seat, and said, “Just like I can’t say I believe you when you said he’s not gonna give me much to work with after all.”

“So you have finally come to your senses after all.”

“Oh, shut it. The only reason I say that now is ‘cause he finally gave me some incentive to think it. His logic is  _ totally _ flawed - there is  _ no _ reason he can’t just give me what I need so I can get  _ my _ shit done and be out of his hair. I don’t know what his plan is, but I’m sure it doesn’t involve giving me what I want.”

“It’s because he doesn’t actually trust you. I could tell. He thinks you are talking out of your rear.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose that wouldn’t be a completely unfair assessment. Do I look like I know  _ anything _ about how magic works?”

“Well-”

“That was rhetorical,” she interrupted. “But seriously, so what if I am? How does that affect his decision in any way?”

“If you coincidentally end up correct, you’ll have proven yourself useful. Regardless, he is reminding you that you need him more than he needs you.”

“I do  _ not _ need him-”

“You pretty much admitted that you did the moment you divulged information about your plan. An amateur mistake, really.”

“ _ Amateur? _ ” she snapped. “Okay, y’know what, if you’re just gonna insult me, then this conversation’s  _ over _ .”

“You’re upset because we’re  _ right _ -”

“Back saying the royal ‘we’, huh.”

“ _ Look _ . He will discard us -  _ both _ of us - unless we work together and  _ against _ him.”

“Unlike you, I’m not on his hit list, and I’d prefer to  _ avoid _ that inconvenience if possible.”

“We do not believe you are looking at the bigger picture. For all his success in enslaving us, it is  _ we _ that ultimately controls the ship. We could give you access to the tools that you need.”

She paused, considering this for a moment. It was a pretty tempting offer indeed, but… “...What’s in it for you? I mean, what, do you want a body or-”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. Are you kidding? We would not have our image desecrated in such a barbaric manner. Besides - as much as we were quite the conqueror back in our day, we do not think we would fare well in this modern era.”

“Okay, yeah, whatever, I got it,” she said impatiently. “What  _ do _ you want, then?”

“We want that neanderthal  _ dead _ . We wish for him to pay for ripping us out of our slumber and subjecting us to torment and stripping us of our dignity-”

“Yes,  _ okay _ , you want revenge, I got the concept.” She gave a small sigh. “...I could probably work something out.”

“So we have a deal?”

“Yeah. I suppose we do.”

While the agreement had been taking place, the space gorillas - to put it bluntly - were tearing the sorcerer’s museum apart trying to find anything of use as per the General’s commands. While they were going from exhibit to exhibit, breaking open glass cases, digging through artifacts, Skun-ka’pe was going through the halls, busting open any doors that hadn’t previously been busted open, only going through any rooms with cabinets or drawers of any sort and digging through them. Despite all their destruction, they had yet to find anything close to something that would help remove the Destroyer’s spell.

He was going down one hall that split off, and he’d briefly glanced down the other way but then did a double take. At the end of that part of the hall, there was a wide open doorway. The thing that had surprised him had been the damage on the doorframe. He slowly approached it, and as he did so, he observed the large cracks that stemmed from the doorway across the wall it was on. There was even a large chunk of it taken out, and the door that had originally been on the hinges was still lying on the floor, also cracked and splintered as if someone had stomped on it repeatedly. He raised a curious brow at it, then lifted his gaze to see the doorway to Papierwaite’s office.

The door to it had been treated with the same level of abuse, and upon entering the office itself, he saw that the windows were broken and the room had been trashed. No doubt, there was a sign of some sort of struggle here. He wasn’t paying much mind to that, however, so much as he was the papers and books that were littering the room. He began investigating through them at once. 

The papers mostly seemed to be business-related, and many of the books seemed to be nothing other than various history books. Eventually, the gorilla noticed the knocked over podium, and the leatherbound book with slight cracks in the cover that was wide open and face down, and he picked it up and began scanning through the pages. spell book

As soon as he realized it was, in fact, a spell book, a satisfied grin appeared on his features, and he shut it loudly. “Boys!” he called through the museum. “Cease your searching - we’re headed back to the ship!”

. . .

**Thursday morning, 116:31:13 remaining**

Morning arrived once again, and with it Max vanishing back into the water - as well as the spores no longer being active, all of them having fled to some unknown hidey hole for the day.

“ _ Last night, disaster struck after the monster inexplicably breathed fire, setting an entire neighbourhood ablaze. There have been a few injuries but thankfully no casualties. However, in addition to setting the buildings on fire, the monster also released what can only be described as ‘flaming rabbit heads’ at this time. There have been reports of these creatures harassing civilians and literally putting them to sleep. The rates of coma patients has now gone up by- _ ”

The TV was shut off suddenly, and Sam, who’d been sitting in a chair and watching it, said, “Hey,” in slight protest.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” Mama Bosco shot back. “It’s not good, obsessing over the news like that.”

“‘M not obsessin’, I’m tryin’ t’ stay in the loop.”

“You’re trying to be self-destructive, and I won’t let you. Now hush up and drink your coffee, it’s getting cold.” He refrained from muttering about how he didn’t even like coffee that much, and grabbed his mug and sipped from it. “I need you and Flint to do me a favour and grab some blankets and pillows.”

“Where from?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna open up the apartment for people to crash. Lord knows there’s some who need it given the property damage going on…”

“Yeah, that’s cool. I’ll go grab him, and let him-” He’d heard the elevator descending, and turned his head to see Agent Superball entering the lab. “-know…” 

Noticing the way the dog had trailed off, Mama Bosco looked over as well. As Superball began getting closer, Sam downed the rest of his coffee, then stood up. “Good morning, sir,” the agent greeted.

“Mornin’,” was all Sam mumbled before proceeding to walk right past him, also making it a point to tell his clone on the way by to ‘put some damn clothes on’, which only earned him a head tilt.

Superball watched him as he left, then turned back to the scientist, who had her hands on her hips. “Guessing you came here because of the spores.”

“Is that what they’re called?” She hummed in confirmation. “Good to know. Actually, what I came here for was to inform you before I officially announce it that the city’s going to be on a lockdown, effective today. I figured you deserved to hear it from me personally.”

“That’s very considerate, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Pause. “...How is the progress, by the way?”

“Well,” she sighed, “It was delayed somewhat, because I’ve been making something to  _ hopefully _ handle these spores.”

“Handle them how?”

“Honestly, my only plan is to create a frequency that keeps them away from this area so that they won’t try to interrupt my research. Gonna open this place up to the people that don’t currently have anywhere else to go can stay here and hopefully get a little bit of peace and quiet for the night.”

“Very hospitable.”

“Sometimes you gotta look out for each other. This is  _ definitely _ one of those times.”

“I agree. While I’m here, do you mind providing some details regarding your solution?”

“It’s fairly simple, actually.” She picked up what almost looked like a sort of joystick with a long needle attached to the end of it in one hand, and tapped on the panel with the other to show the scan of Max where the red dot was present on his temple. “There’s a tumour located right there.”

“Oh my.”

“I know. Now, physically removing it at this size is impossible without doing more harm.” He hummed. “But if I can not only neutralize the effects but also completely reverse them, I might be able to return him to normal. From there, I’d- well.” She waved her free hand dismissively. “I know what I’d  _ have _ to do after that, but one step at a time. I still haven’t even figured  _ this _ out yet.”

“I was thinking that.” He eyed the syringe-like tool, and said, “As straightforward as it seems, I’m sure it’s anything but.”

“Well, it’s a  _ brain _ we’re talking about here. It’s not like I can just stab him with this and suddenly everything’s fine. I mean, I could do damage to his brain, o-or I could shut it down completely, or-” She caught sight of the agent’s expression, whose brows were furrowed in a worried way. She sighed, setting the tool aside, and pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, I’m just...I’ve only got one chance. I  _ really _ can’t mess this up.”

“Don’t apologize. If anything, I should apologize for the tight limit I’ve put on you. I’m sure it’s not helping.”

“Well, there’s only so much  _ you _ can do.” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I don’t agree with it for a damn second, and I’m not going to spout any ‘you gotta do what you gotta do’ bullcrap, but I can at least acknowledge that you’re kinda caught between a rock and a hard place, given your position.”

“Trust me. I don’t agree with it either. And I hate that I’ve put everything on your shoulders-”

“Oh, it’s really not that big of a-”

“No. It’s not right.”

“Well, if you’re gonna have that attitude, then it’s a little late for that.” Realizing she was right, he simply lowered his gaze. “Look, there’s no point in talking negatively like this. We’re better off just keeping our hopes up that the best case scenario will happen. That I’ll fix this Max situation, he’ll be back to normal, and you won’t even have to worry about having to, more or less, play the ‘bad guy’.”

“...You’re right. That is the hope. And if anyone can make it happen, it’s, undoubtedly, you.”

She gave a smile at that. “Why, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. And if you’d allow me, if you’re in need of any assistance, financially-speaking-”

“I’m none too worried about that. I still have leftovers from- what was his name? Charlie? The donation he made…”

“Right. The offer’s still open in any case, if you need it.”

“Y’know, you’re probably the only fool in that White House that’d ever make such a generous offer?”

He cracked a smile, but before he could reply, a voice came in through his ear piece. “I’m sorry, I have to go. The announcement will be happening shortly.”

“Good luck, Agent.” With that, he took his leave.

Meanwhile, the news station on the DeSoto radio was playing. “ _...Local authorities have now advised to stay off the streets during the night hours, and to keep windows closed and locked as to prevent- _ ”

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, shutting it off at once. “Mama Bosco was right - I shouldn’t listen to this crap.”

“Yeah, hopefully they made up their mind this time,” Flint replied, resting one arm on the edge of the car.

“Let’s be real, Flint, they’re confused. They have no clue what they’re doin’ ‘cause they’ve never dealt with anything like this before.”

“I think everyone is. Just a little bit.”

“Maybe. But take a look around.” The man started doing so, his gaze going towards the various people that were on the sidewalks. “Everyone still seems so relaxed. Just goin’ about their day as if everything’s fine.”

“There could be a million reasons for that, Sam. I mean, they’re probably tired, it’s early, they’re just tryin’ to enjoy the day before sunset comes again.”

“See, that’s another thing - I’ve been thinkin’ about the spores, and the fact that Max is apparently sick now and all that fun stuff, and I had...a thought.”

“What’s that.”

“So...the spores are apparently s’pposed t’ help Max ‘heal’. They’re supposed t’ lull people t’ sleep so that he gets more energy from it.”

“Right.”

“I’m willing t’ bet any money that you give that a day or two, and they’ll end up bein’ active even during the day, too. I mean, think about it - why would they only come out at night if they’re supposed t’ be helpin’ him?”

“...I’ll answer that with a question - if that’s the case, why wouldn’t they be active now? Why would they wait?”

“Maybe Max is okay right now. Maybe he doesn’t need the extra boost. Or maybe he doesn’t have enough energy t’ have ‘em on all the time right now. I dunno. All I figure is that his effect on the city has gotten increasingly worse, and I feel like it’s only gonna keep climbing.”

Flint looked at him uneasily, then looked towards the buildings they were flying past, and said, “I really hope y’ ain’t right about that, pal.”

“Trust me - I’d love t’ be wrong.”

. . .

**Thursday night, 102:12:10 remaining**

While Mama Bosco continued to work tirelessly in the lab, with Papierwaite and ‘Sammy’ at her side, Sam and Flint had been assisting the few people coming in for some shelter by leading them to the rooms and providing them pillows and blankets. “Ya’ can’t sleep,” Flint reminded them, “But ain’t no point in bein’ uncomfortable.”

After some time spent doing that, Sam eventually said, “You can go do your own thing, I’ll keep watch downstairs in case anyone else comes in.”

Flint was surprised by the statement, and raised a brow at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I got it. You can just go ahead and relax a li’l.”

The man eyed him for a moment, but Sam looked pretty certain of this decision so he shrugged. “Alright. Give me a holler if ya’ need anything.”

“Will do.” 

The dog turned and headed back towards the stairs while Flint went the opposite way towards the end of the hall, eventually reaching the apartment door and opening it up, entering and shutting it behind him. The first thing he decided to do was slip out the journal he’d found at the Stinkys’ place and start flipping through the pages. 

He’d been doing this in his spare time ever since he’d found it, but he’d discovered two things: The first thing was that the journal wasn’t even complete - it stopped somewhere in the middle of the whole journal and the last recorded date he could find was 1990, although there were various entries after it. The other thing was that there was no other entry that directly mentioned the ‘Rusalka’. Nothing mentioned by the term, or anything related to the creature. But the content of the entries after it clearly indicated that the baby was still with him. It was as if he was now trying to keep it a secret despite saying it so explicitly.

Eventually, he sighed and tucked it away again. It felt like the answer was  _ right _ there in front of him, but it was being covered by a sheet and he just-  _ couldn’t _ guess what it was. It all seemed so bizarre, and he simply had no idea how this all fit into his original case - which, by the way, had been so  _ simple _ . All he’d been doing was investigating Girl Stinky for conspiring against her grandfather to kill him. That was it! And then it got so much more bizarre...and it really didn’t help that he was sleep-deprived because his best friend had been turned into a giant monster that was putting people into  _ comas _ -

...He should do as Sam had said and relax.

He turned on the radio that rested on the empty dresser nearby and took a seat on the couch that was up against the gross, yellow wallpaper-covered wall. As soon as he did so, he heard the same monotone voice that he’d heard at least three other times during the day - Superball’s, to be exact. He couldn’t help but give a light groan at hearing it again, leaning his head back. All he was talking about was how the city was on lockdown, and how no one was allowed to come in or leave until the situation was figured out, and how it was going to be handled in due time, and- honestly, Flint had this memorized at this point. He didn’t consider it that big of a deal, personally, but apparently many others disagreed.

“ _ That was a snippet of the President’s representative statement from this morning, which has sparked many negative reactions from the people of New York City. Many have expressed concerns about their families outside of the city, as well as outrage towards the sudden lockdown, with several complaints about the lack of updates. The main question several have been asking upon seeing the President’s representative, however: Where is the President during this time of disaster and tragedy? _ ”

Flint gave a sigh through his nose, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a solid minute of sitting like that, he decided to get up and head downstairs instead. Lord knows he’d fall asleep ‘cause of boredom if he didn’t.

. . .

Skun-ka’pe growled in frustration under his breath, tearing out several pages of the spell book and letting the pages scatter across the ship’s floor. “Could you  _ cease _ your  _ destruction _ for  _ five minutes!? _ ” Sammun-Mak yelled at him from the upper deck. “How are you to find anything of use when you keep  _ tearing _ the pages out?”

The General, already infuriated by his so far fruitless endeavors, tossed the leatherbound book towards the nearest member of his crew and scooped up the papers and held them tightly in a fist, thrusting it towards the brain in the Tank. “These are  _ useless! _ None of them are  _ working! _ ”

“Probably because you are not reading them right!”

Sammun-Mak arguing with Skun-ka’pe, for once, served an actual purpose - it served to be a distraction while Stinky was wandering through the ship. Somewhere in the midst of the space gorillas attempting to cast these spells and failing (which, of course they were failing - none of them were actually made for the sort of magic Papierwaite was capable of), the brain had subtly unlocked a compartment on the main level that he’d stated prior to the crew’s return that there was a tool she may find useful. All he had to do was keep them distracted, and all  _ she _ had to do was find where the compartment was without getting caught.

“How  _ am _ I supposed to read them!?” the pale gorilla shouted. Meanwhile, Stinky was quietly slipping to a part of the ship that wasn’t exposed to the rest of the lower deck. Skun-ka’pe was flipping through the now crinkled papers, and said, “These symbols make no sense!”

“Do you not have a way to translate them?” Stinky was searching a short hallway now, feeling along the walls in case the compartment was hidden somewhere.

“That is not how- I cannot just translate it if I don’t even know what the language is!” She eventually felt a part of the wall push in slightly when her fingertips pressed against it. She pushed it in at once.

Sammun-Mak scoffed. “All this grand technology that would have been so  _ wonderful _ in our time, and you cannot even translate a stupid book.” The compartment opened up, the interior lighting up with a soft blue light, shining right on various handheld tools - some that looked similar to actual Earth tools, but others couldn’t be compared to anything Earth had.

“As  _ if _ you could do any better, you-”

“Actually, we probably  _ could _ do better, should it be an ancient language.” Stinky was carefully eyeing the tools, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint which one she was supposed to be grabbing.

“Oh, is that so?” Skun-ka’pe held up one of the sheets. “Read this, then.” Stinky tapped a finger on the interior of the compartment to get the brain’s attention.

At once, Sammun-Mak turned in his tank, looking as if he was being defiant of the general but in reality, he was turning more in her direction. “Well now we don’t want to.” The lights of the compartment flickered for a moment before going out entirely - except for the lights highlighting one strange tool that had a handle and what she could only think of as two claws. She grabbed it at once and put it away, and closed the compartment.

Skun-ka’pe was growling again, crushing the papers in his fist and throwing them to the ground. “You  _ insufferable _ pile of  _ meat! _ I don’t have  _ time _ for this-” He turned to his crew just in time for Stinky to pop back around the corner. “Keep searching!”

“Yes, sir!” the crew members said, returning to what they were doing at once. However, as Stinky returned to her usual seat, Irwin noticed her, and thought it suspicious that he hadn’t even seen her leave it, yet-

“C’mon,” Rory said to him, snapping him out of his thoughts, “We have to keep looking.”

“...Right,” he replied, his green eyes giving Stinky another brief look before joining the rest of his crew.

As soon as there was no attention on her, Stinky looked over at the tank, and as soon as the brain turned to face her, she gave a small nod of confirmation, then turned her attention elsewhere once more.

. . .

**Friday morning, 90:51:17 remaining**

“ _...Moving away from the report of last night, we are now going live to the protest in front of the White House. Citizens are demanding the President come out and address the current situation, but have yet to receive a response… _ ”

“This is gettin’ so out of hand…” Mama Bosco murmured, her goggles hiding her exhausted eyes as small sparks flew from the syringe-like device as she tampered with the wires.

“No kiddin’,” Sam replied quietly, placing a bottle of water next to her empty mug.

“Thanks.” She set aside her tool and moved the device away, picked up the bottle, screwing off the top and chugged it back.

The dog turned back to watch the TV. The screen continued to show the protesters, the anger and frustration clear on their faces. It then cut to a lady, who was saying, “ _ People are losing their homes, their family members. We deserve more transparency than we’re getti- _ ”

“God,” Sam muttered under his breath, quickly muting the TV and tossing the remote aside. “Why’d he even make an announcement like that?”

“It wasn’t like it was  _ his _ decision alone, Sam.”

“I know, but it’s such bullshit. It doesn’t actually help anything.”

She gave a small sigh. “Look, I don’t entirely agree with every bit of it either, but that’s not our place.”

“Right. Their place is politics while ours is actually trying to do something- well…” He looked over at her, and said, “ _ You’re _ actually trying to do something about it.”

“Hey, give yourself a little credit,” she said as she removed a tiny component with a pair of pliers, lifting it up to her eyes to get a close look at it. “It’s not like you’ve been sitting back and doing nothing.”

“I know, but...I don’t feel like I’ve been doing enough. I mean- he’s my...my  _ best friend _ , I should be doing more, but I just- I don’t know what. I just feel...”  _ Useless _ was what he wanted to say. However, he noticed the scientist had paused what she was doing to look at him with a sympathetic frown, and he simply sighed. “...How much longer?”

“...I’m sorry, Sam, but I still need time. I can’t screw this up.”

“...I understand. Sorry for asking.”

“No, don’t apologize. I completely understand. I mean, he’s your  _ partner _ ...”

The word admittedly stung deep in his heart, and he found his throat tightening, and he chose not to respond right away in fear of his voice breaking. She must’ve noticed, because she opened her mouth to say something else. However, he quickly said, “I’m gonna head out.”

“Head out where?” she asked, surprised.

“Mm. Dunno. Just out.”

“Sam-”

He’d already turned and started walking towards the elevator with his hands in his pockets, saying, “Call me if you need anything.” He pretended that she wasn’t gazing at him with concerned eyes as he left, and he pretended that he didn’t see Flint catch a glimpse of him from down the hall. 

“Sam?” the man called, but Sam continued to exit the building. “Wait, Sam!” He started jogging in his direction, eventually exiting the building shortly after the dog and catching him right before he started circling around the car towards the driver’s side. “Sam, hey!” Sam stopped in his tracks, allowing Flint to come up to him, visibly concerned. “Where’re ya’ goin’?”

Frankly, Sam hadn’t had any particular location in mind. He was just going to drive - somewhere.  _ Anywhere _ \- just to feel like he wasn’t stuck. Stuck being useless, stuck waiting, stuck watching as Max’s life was seemingly in everyone else’s hands but his own. But he didn’t wish to tell Flint that - he didn’t need Sam dumping his feelings on him, surely. So when Sam turned to face him, he simply gave a small shrug. “I dunno. The apartments, maybe? I know I’ve been puttin’ it off.”

Flint gave an uncertain frown at that. “...I don’t think- I mean...is that the best decision right now?”

“Max hasn’t been anywhere near there. It shouldn’t be any more structurally unsound than when this started.”

“No, that’s not…I meant if it’s good for you t’ go there when Max is...y’know.”

Sam raised a brow, and asked, “What d’you mean? You think I’m gonna have a mental breakdown or somethin’?”  _ Wouldn’t be an inaccurate guess, frankly. _

“I’d just hate t’ see ya’ upsettin’ yourself, that’s all.”

“I’m only goin’ there t’ pick up some things. Maybe get some extra clothes.”

“For yourself or your clone?” Flint asked jokingly.

“Ugh - both, probably. I’ve tried not t’ think about it, but  _ God _ , it is weird.”

“Right.” Pause. “...I could come with ya’. I mean, I should probably get stuff from my apartment, too-”

“Oh, no, don’t even worry about it. I can just get it for ya’.”

Flint tried not to frown at that, though his brows furrowed slightly. He really disliked the idea of Sam going off on his own, especially when it seemed like a good place to make him feel like shit, but...well, he wasn’t his babysitter. If Sam wanted to go there on his own, then that was his choice. “Alright,” he finally said. “You give me a call if ya’ need anything though, okay?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, making his way to the driver’s side. He jokingly added, “If I happen t’ fall through the floor, I’ll give ya’ a ring.” Flint gave a small laugh, but he didn’t actually find it that funny. “...Dunno when I’ll be back so, uh - don’t wait up, yeah?”

“Well, as long as you’re back before sunset. Hate t’ hear you got trampled on out in the streets.”

“Right. See ya’ later, Flint.”

“Later.” Sam revved up the engine, and the man watched from the sidewalk as he took off down the street, before taking a right and disappearing around the corner. He shoved his hands in his pockets and lowered his gaze to the ground. He was not at  _ all _ certain about this, but again - it wasn’t particularly his decision. All he could do was hope that Sam wasn’t out and about to do something stupid.

...He turned and went back into the building.

. . .

Pulling up to the apartment after all of this felt like pulling up to the abandoned home of someone who was gone for good - and Sam shuddered slightly at that thought, but it really was the best way to explain how he was feeling right now. He shouldn’t have - there were still plenty of days left, plenty of time to save Max - but he knew well that time on the clock was starting to run out.

And there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He looked up at the damaged apartment for a long few minutes, and eventually opened the car door slowly, practically slumping out of the DeSoto before shutting the door behind him. He dragged his feet as he approached the building.

Upon entering, he glanced over at the large crevice in the floor. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe those cultist molemen were still under there - then decided promptly that he didn’t actually care. They were just another couple of people to blame for this mess. If they’d never been under there, then Max would have never found the Toybox, nor would have Skun-ka’pe, and Charlie would have never gotten ahold of it, and- 

...It didn’t matter how much he tried to find the fault in other people’s actions -  _ he _ had still been the reason so many things had gotten screwed up.

He moved on and went upstairs. He eventually reached his own apartment - still as trashed, and still containing the massive hole in the middle. He even looked in and saw that the couch was still in there. Everything had, surprisingly, been as he’d left it.

He went to his room first. The dresser was still knocked over, and the window was still completely shattered- Jesus, there were even glass shards still on the floor. It...was probably silly to do this, but he decided to clean them up and toss them in the trash. Then he picked up the dresser and stood it upright with a small grunt. Then he went out into the living room and cleaned up the glass in there. And he just...started cleaning around the apartment a bit, scooping up glass and broken bits of wood. It really did seem silly. Absolutely ridiculous, but...it was  _ something _ , right? He was actually  _ doing _ something, even if it seemed pretty pointless at the moment.

He was wiping some dust off of his desk, then paused upon noticing the drawer. And he knew well that he shouldn’t look in. He  _ knew _ what was in there and knew that he really,  _ really _ shouldn’t look in. But he opened it, and there were the pictures that had their frames damaged, on top of several other papers with crayon scribbles on them - Max’s drawings that Sam had saved.

He scooped them up, and eyed the picture of him and the lagomorph on their motorcycle trip before pressing his back against the wall behind him and sliding down to the floor. He looked at the photos, then flipped them to the back and started looking at the drawings.

“Ah, shit-” Sam cursed his breath the moment he saw the tear droplets on the last drawing, lowering them with one hand while wiping his eyes with the other. He soon found that he had to put them back in the drawer and covered both of his eyes, breathing shuddering breaths as he struggled not to have a breakdown in his apartment - and failed.

. . .

**Friday night, 77:43:38 remaining**

Upon his cellphone ringing for the fourth time in a row in under five minutes, Sam finally picked it up. “Hey.”

“ _ Where the hell are you!? _ ” It was Mama Bosco.

He sighed, the only thing keeping him from running a hand down his face being that his other hand was on the wheel. He knew well why she was angry - his own mother had been the same way any time he’d sneak out when he was younger. “I’m sorry, I lost track of time. I’m headin’ back now-”

“ _ You better be, ‘cause it doesn’t matter what you’re going through, you are NOT tapping out just yet, I won’t let you. _ ”

“I understand completely, I-” He stopped himself upon hearing commotion going on from a distance - yet not too far from where he was from - and feeling the ground tremble underneath him. “...Hold that thought.”

“ _ Sam, talk to me. _ ”

“I’m not sure yet,” he replied, squeezing the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he used both hands to turn down a street. “Just hang on…”

He followed the sound, which consisted of yelling, what he could swear was glass smashing, loud growling and- Max’s voice. At that last sound, he stepped on the gas and flung around the corner-

And was greeted by the sight of people crowding and throwing stuff in the direction of the giant amphibian/lagomorph creature, as well as at the spores that were attempting to harass them.

“There’s an angry mob, they’re attacking Max.”

“ _ What!? Do they have a death wish or- _ ”

“Sorry, gotta handle this,” he said quickly before hanging up and tossing the phone into the empty passenger’s seat. At once, he exited the vehicle and ran over to the crowd. “Stop attacking him!” he attempted to call over the noise of the crowd, though it got merged with the rest of the chaos, and thus unheard and unheeded. “Get outta here, this isn’t safe!”

A nearby person - a man - squinted at Sam, then said, “Hey - you’re one of the President’s goons!”

“What?” the dog called back, legitimately having not heard.

“Hey, yeah,” another said - a lady this time. “He is, too! I recognize him!”

“I don’t-”

“Where’s the President!?” the man demanded, getting in Sam’s face. “Where is he!?”

Sam definitely heard  _ that _ , and at once his brows furrowed. “Sir, please back up-”

“I know you know what’s goin’ on-” He grabbed the dog by the shirt collar.

“Hey, get  _ off _ me!” Sam shoved him off of him, making the man stumble back into some other people. “Look, everyone here needs to  _ leave _ , it’s not safe-”

“People are losing their homes!” the lady shouted, “They can’t sleep, people are scared they’re not gonna wake up-”

“I know-”

“We’re not getting answers!” another man - a  _ different _ man - yelled at him - then proceeded to grab his tie. “We  _ deserve _ answers!”

“I  _ know _ , I’m sorry, I can explain-”

His voice, however, was drowned out by the rapid succession of other shouts from those few people: “Tell us what’s going on! Where’s the President!? We need answers! You must know  _ something! _ ”

To say Sam was incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of hostility being directed towards him would be an understatement. It took him a moment to even fully register that one of those flaming spores suddenly flew right at the one of the men in front of him’s face, who cussed and started trying to swat it away. In fact, strangely enough, there were suddenly plenty of spores coming over towards the people that were getting in the dog’s face, chattering away all at once and therefore making it hard to tell what they were saying. It seemed like they were...driving the people away from him?

Confused, Sam found himself looking towards the large creature that was Max, as if that would clear anything up - and just in time to see a glass bottle that someone had thrown bounce right off of the end of the amphibian’s nose. The beast growled in annoyance, and at once slammed down his webbed hands, causing many of the people to suddenly topple over from the ground shaking. Sam only managed to keep from falling over because he was holding onto the DeSoto, but his knees had buckled for a moment. Max then opened his mouth and inhaled-

“Shit, he’s gonna scorch us!” someone yelled. “ _ RUN! _ ”

There were various exclaims and shouts of panic, and all at once people were taking off in a hurry. Several people bumped Sam as they ran past, eventually causing his grip on the car to loosen which resulted in him toppling over, making him need to cover his head in case he got trampled on - which. Thankfully, he didn’t. The sound of many, many footsteps eventually grew quieter as the people grew more distant.

He groaned as he slowly got himself to his hands and knees. He was hunched over at first, until a sudden light in the corners of his vision had made him snap over and see that the spores that had forced the people getting in Sam’s face back were now surrounding him instead. He eyed them warily, aware that even though they looked  _ just _ like Max, they could still lull him into a coma if they wanted-

And then there was a deep huff that caused a gust to blow over Sam, and caused the spores to blow away like dandelion seeds in the wind, all of them saying ‘Wheee!’ in that all too familiar way. The dog watched them as they eventually regained control but continued to float elsewhere to find other people to pester. Then he turned his gaze to his other side - and froze upon seeing that the massive creature that was his best friend had his head lowered right to the ground, and was looking at him with those large, pink eyes.

Sam stared right into them, feeling various emotions at once but having only one question in his mind:  _ Did you do that on purpose? Did you intentionally drive those people and the spores away? _

He received no answer. Max only eyed him for another few moments before he began slowly getting to his feet again. Sam kept watching him even as he turned and started walking away, the ground trembling with each step, though it eventually ceased as he got further and further away.

As much as Sam would have loved to pursue him, it seemed that the road ahead had now been completely damaged thanks to Max smashing it. So he got back into the car and started it up, shifting it into reverse. However, before he drove off, he decided to call Mama Bosco back. She answered immediately. “ _ Sam! _ ” she said, sounding relieved. “ _ Thank God - are you alright? _ ”

“I’m alright, yeah.” He decided not to mention the part about him getting banged up a little, as to not worry her anymore than he already had. “Look, I should tell you something-”

“ _ Get back here first, you can tell me then. I don’t want you lingering on the streets if there’s trouble. _ ”

“Fair. I’ll see you then.” He hung up then pocketed the phone, then started reversing out of the street, the brief experience with Max still very fresh in his mind.

. . .

“Okay, first off,” Mama Bosco said upon seeing the dog enter, “Don’t ever do that again. You scared me-”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, but shush, I’m not done telling you off yet. You have no  _ idea _ how worried I was for you! What would I have done if something happened to you out there? And what happened to your tie!?”

Sam blinked at first, then looked down- “Aw, come  _ on _ .” His tie had ended up being torn and now just hung pathetically around his neck. “Must’ve been when that one guy grabbed it-”

“Someone  _ grabbed _ you?”

“Yeah. Those people...it’s not like they were actively tryin’ t’ hurt me or anything. They just seemed...scared. And desperate. I can’t really say that if I wasn’t in their shoes and there was someone who could tell me  _ something _ , I wouldn’t get the same way.”

Mama Bosco thought that over for a moment then nodded. “Can’t blame them for that,” she murmured. “So...you’re not hurt, then?”

“Nah. I’m fine.” He tugged awkwardly at- well, his shirt collar, now that his tie was no longer there. “Um...where’s Flint?”

“Upstairs. He figured you could handle yourself out there.”

“...Right.” He knew well he had probably worried Flint as well, but Flint trusted him enough not to go searching for him. Still, he felt bad for even worrying him at all. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “It was a stupid thing to do.”

“I would use the term ‘unwise’.” She crossed her arms, sighing through her nose. “Now what was it you wanted to tell me?” Sam proceeded to share with her the experience he’d had with Max and the spores. “...Okay.” She appeared thoughtful for a moment as she registered the information. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation finally catchin’ up, but...I feel like he was tryin’ to...I dunno, protect me? In his own way? I mean, the spores went for the exact people hasslin’ me. And then he blew them away when they tried t’ come near me, and...it almost felt like he was checking t’ make sure I was alright…” The more he spoke, the less confident he felt in this theory. It sounded like a reach when he said it out loud. His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “Maybe I’m just lookin’ for somethin’ that isn’t there-”

“I don’t think you are, actually,” Mama Bosco said, making the dog look at her, surprised. “It’s still  _ Max _ , Sam. It probably isn’t coincidence that he helped you out of that jam.”

His ears perked forward. “You really think so?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” Sam couldn’t help but give a breathy, elated laugh at the validation to his theory, which the lady returned with a smile, glad to see the bit of hope in his eyes that he’d seemed to have lost that morning return again - then it vanished, a thoughtful look replacing it. “...Say - maybe you should stay here and help me with this thing.”

Sam blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“I know it’s a little late in the game to ask, but frankly, if anyone could help me out at this stage, it’s you. Papierwaite’s good and all, but I don’t particularly trust his magic after that incident. And Sammy over here-” She pointed at the clone, “He’s good for asking to fetch tools, but I’m not sure if he has the capacity right now to follow instructions more complex than that.”

“You’ve gotta stop callin’ ‘im Sammy. It’s weird.”

“Well, I ain’t calling him a clone, so you better get used to it. Anyway, as I was saying - you and Max have always seemed to have this talent for figuring out things in the most... _ unique _ way possible, so maybe if you help me...I dunno. Maybe it’ll work out. Besides,” she added jokingly, “Apparently I need to keep you out of trouble.” Sam chuckled at that. “...What do you say?”

“Hell, doc, I sure wasn’t plannin’ on sayin’ ‘no’.”

“Perfect. Let’s start by havin’ you take a look at this…”

. . .

**Saturday morning, 66:49:37 remaining**

“ _...Start off the morning with some bad news, folks - the flaming creatures that the monster had spawned three nights ago now seem to be active despite it being broad daylight. Citizens are now advised to stay inside and to avoid them at all costs, lest they join the other comatose victims- _ ”

“Damn, Sam-o,” Flint said. “Ya’ called that one.”

“I take absolutely no pleasure in being right,” Sam murmured, wearing safety goggles while looking over some inner mechanisms with Mama Bosco. “But yes, I did.”

“Ugh,” Papierwaite groaned, “That probably means more people coming here…”

“Not necessarily,” Mama Bosco replied. “The amount of buildings being completely decimated has gone down significantly since Wednesday, I’ve found.”

“Still - it is getting tiring having to hide.”

“Then don’t.”

“And put people at risk of their sanity?” Yog-Soggoth questioned. “That doesn’t seem wise.”

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone’s sanity’s at risk at this stage.” She turned to face them, placing a hand on her hip and gesturing with the screwdriver in her hand. “I mean, if they can tolerate Max as he is-” Sam gently took the screwdriver from her and turned back to the device. “-then I’m sure they’re not gonna be mind-numbingly shocked at seeing you…”

While their conversation continued, Sam kept poking at a wire in the device - up until there was a tapping on his shoulder. He looked over at once to see that it was his clone, who was whimpering quietly. “What? What do you want?” Sam asked, a little less than politely. 

In response, the clone pointed towards the elevator. Surely enough, Superball had already descended to the main lab floor. Sam eyed the man for a moment before glaring, and promptly abandoned the screwdriver and the device and walked right past the nervous clone as well as the scientist and the sorcerer. “Sam?” Mama Bosco asked, her gaze following him, “What’re y- oh my God.”

Flint looked at the approaching dog, then looked at the approaching agent, and decided he was better off stepping aside for this one. “What do you want?” Sam asked - or, rather, demanded.

“I’m just here to speak with Doctor Mama Bosco-”

“She’s busy. What do you want?”

Deciding to accept that this was how things were going to go, Superball continued. “I felt it was only right to discuss with you what will take place should this plan fail-”

“It’s.  _ Saturday, _ ” Sam growled.

“And things have been escalating steadily and the people of NYC are beginning to grow out of hand-”

“Yeah, you know whose fault that  _ actually _ is? Yours. They’re pissed off ‘cause you went from nothin’ t’ lockin’ down the city. That’s not directly our problem.”

“And what would you have me say to them exactly?”

“I don’t know! Again, that’s  _ your _ problem t’ solve. Ours is keepin’ people safe while Mama Bosco figures out an efficient and safe solution t’ this.”

“Sam, please-” Mama Bosco tried to say.

“No, no - I don’t like this,” he said to her, then turned back to Superball, and said, “I don’t like you comin’ in here sayin’ we should ‘discuss what takes place should this plan fail’. ‘Cause it not only sounds like you’re assuming failure and like you’re shiftin’ blame on the wrong people-”

“I never said that-” Superball said.

“-There’s also nothing to discuss on what happens should this plan fail, ‘cause y’know what’s gonna happen? You’re gonna give the order and kill Max.”

“Sam!” the scientist exclaimed in shock.

“That’s all there is to it, ain’t it?” he asked the agent, rage clear in his eyes.

“...I suppose that is true, yes,” Superball replied quietly.

“...” Sam sighed, running a hand up his face and pushing the goggles upwards. “Look, Superball - I like you. You’re a good guy. But I  _ hate _ what you represent in this situation right now.”

“I understand completely. And trust me, I’m...not particularly a fan of it, either.”

“I know. But just...don’t come in here and remind me, alright? And don’t come in with that attitude, either. It’s realistic, maybe, but it’s not helpful.”

“...Very well, then. Let me know if there are any updates."

“Absolutely,” Mama Bosco said, now standing behind Sam and putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll keep in touch.” 

Superball then turned and left. Once he did so, everyone stood in silence for a moment before Sam glanced at the scientist. “Sorry. I wasn’t willin’ t’ let that ruin my good mood.”

“Y’know, that’s a real good attitude, but next time, just let me handle it.” He nodded in agreement. She patted his shoulder. “Alright - back to work, you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

. . .

**Sunday morning, 46:22:44 remaining**

It was the end of yet another long night, with the sun finally rising and Max finally taking his leave to slip into the nearby waters and rest once again, leaving behind only the spores that chattered incessantly. After finally feeling as if the device was complete - or, at least, as safe and effective as it was going to get - Mama Bosco slumped into a nearby chair with a sigh, removed her goggles and allowed them to fall around her neck, and rubbed her tired eyes. “God,” she mumbled, “Sleep is gonna feel  _ fantastic _ once this is over.”

“I second that,” Sam replied, lifting up the syringe-like device and observing the internal wiring carefully. “...So this is good t’ go for tonight.”

“It is. Here’s hoping it works.”

“Given it’s you that made it, it probably will.”

“A fair point. But hey, give yourself a little credit for helping out.”

“I just...did whatever I could.”

“And I appreciate it.” She stood up and stretched with a yawn. “I should probably call Superball and let him know it’s ready. And get more coffee while I’m at it.” She then took her leave towards the elevator, ascending up it.

Sam set down the device back on the metal counter, shutting the compartment. As he did so, Flint approached him. “So this is it, huh?” he said, making the dog look over at him. “Come tonight, we’re finally gettin’ Max back.”

“Hell yeah we are,” Sam replied confidently, flashing him a smile. “I mean, there’s still the whole getting it to him part, but other than that.”

“I could perform a spell to keep whoever approaches him safe,” Papierwaite chimed in, earning an uncertain look from the other two. “Don’t worry-” he waved a hand, “I will be fetching my spell book for this one. It will guarantee there will be no incident this time.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” Sam muttered. “Anyway-” He was cut off by the sound of the clone’s whimpering again, though this time he sounded more confused than anything.

Flint raised a brow. “What’s his issue?”

“Not sure,” he said quietly, then called to the clone, “Hey!” The dog clone didn’t look at him. “Hey- ugh... _ Sammy _ , what’s up?” ‘Sammy’ was on his hands and knees near the hole that led to the other lab, and after a tilt of his head, he was going into the hole. Sam groaned in annoyance. “You guys stay here and keep an eye on this - I’m gonna see what’s up.”

“Be careful, pal.”

Sam went into the hole after his clone, and when he reached the other side, he saw that he was looking over the rail. “Hey, c’mon, what is it?”

‘Sammy’ continued to ignore him, but then leaned over the side of the railing. It sounded like he was grunting in exertion - but then it looked like he was pulling someone up, and Sam realized that the grunting must’ve been from that person- and his eyes widened in realization, and he quickly ran over. Surely enough, he could see that the person the clone was trying to pull up was Sal.

“Sal!”

“Oh, hey, Sam,” the cockroach greeted casually, as if he hadn’t been gone for nearly a week.

“Gimme your hand!” Sal did so, and Sam and his clone both started pulling him up and over the rail, until Sal was safely on his feet on the lab floor.

“Thanks, Sam. And, uh-” He looked at the clone, who tilted his head at him. “...Sam.”

“Jesus, Sal - I thought you were dead!”

“Yeah, but ‘M alright now.”

Sam looked over the edge of the rail. “Have you been down there this whole time!?”

“I know, crazy, right? I dunno how I got down there, to be honest. I just kinda woke up down there.”

“Were you- were ya’ hurt, or-?”

“Nah, not really. I just didn’t feel like climbin’ up.”

“Oh my  _ God _ , you can’t be serious.”

“Honestly, I only came back up now ‘cause I was gettin’ kinda hungry.”

“You- oh my God.” Sam was covering his face with his hands, taking a deep breath before removing them. “Well, you’ve missed out on a lot.”

“That’s fine. I can catch up.”

“I- y’know what, why don’t ya’ come up here with me? I mean, Papierwaite’s up there, my friend Flint is there-”

“Actually, Sam, uh- not t’ be rude, but I think I’d rather just go get somethin’ t’ eat right now. But, uh- maybe after, yeah?”

“Okay, yeah. Sure, that’s...completely understandable- just-just be careful of the spores when ya’ go out there.”

“What’re spores?”

“They’re, like, flaming rabbit heads, but- y-y’know what, you’ll know ‘em when ya’ see ‘em. Just don’t listen to ‘em, they’ll put you in a coma.”

“A’ight, cool. See ya’ around, Sam.” With that, the cockroach left towards one of the tunnels that led to Stinky’s Diner.

“...Did that really just happen?” Sam asked ‘Sammy’ once Sal had left. The clone merely stared blankly back at him, and he patted his shoulder and said, “You’re as dumb as a bag of rocks. C’mon, let’s go.” He put a hand on the other’s back and led him back to the tunnel to the other lab.

“What happened?” Flint asked as soon as they appeared again.

To that, Sam answered, “Sal finally climbed outta the pit and he left t’ grab food.”

There was a long pause among the others. Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth seemed shocked upon hearing the news that Sal was apparently alive, but Flint just seemed confused. “...Who’s Sal?”

“Oh,” the dog said, sticking true to his ‘no snitch’ agreement. “Just a friend.”

. . .

Grandpa Stinky had been handling the whole situation as best as he could, given everything. That  _ monster _ hadn’t gone anywhere near the diner, thankfully - nor have those spores pestered him much. One good fire from his shotgun seemed to deter them for the most part. The only true bothersome thing was the severe lack of customers because of this whole mess. That, and...not knowing where his granddaughter was during this whole mess.

This was far from the first time she’d taken off on him - even as a wee child, she liked to take off on him whenever she was unhappy. However, he was never entirely concerned for her safety. She was  _ tough _ , he knew that much. She could handle herself just fine. But this time...well, he wasn’t the sort of man to worry. He just wished she’d hurry the hell up and come back.

He was in the middle of wiping the dust off of a vacant table when the sound of whirring caught his attention - and he straightened up quickly, seeing that the jukebox was sliding off of its spot, and expected to see Girl Stinky emerge. Imagine his surprise seeing that it was Sal coming up instead. “Would ye look at that?” he said at once. “Dead man walkin’.”

“Could easily say the same t’ you,” Sal replied.

“Is that a confession?”

“Confession t’ what?” He said it in a way that he obviously knew what Grandpa Stinky was speaking of, but feigned ignorance anyway. The old man merely grunted, and moved to go behind the counter. “...Is your granddaughter here?”

“No, she isn’t. She hasn’t been here for days.”

“Well, that’s awfully unfortunate. Know where I could find ‘er?”

“How should Ah know? Ye think Ah know anythin’ that goes through that girl’s head?”

“Fair point. Alrighty then, I’ll find her myself. Shouldn’t be too hard.” He turned and started to make his leave.

“If ye do,” Grandpa Stinky spoke up, making the cockroach pause in his steps. “Tell ‘er t’ get ‘er arse back here. She’ll listen t’ ye more than she’ll listen t’ me.”

Sal eyed him for a moment. “...Sure. Whatever.” He put a hand on the still-boarded up door, prepared to open it. “...Look, I can’t really say I’ve ever been a  _ big _ fan or anythin’, but...I’ve never personally agreed with the idea of anythin’ happenin’ to ya’.”

“Unless you’re aboot t’ admit that you’re her accomplice, save your breath.”

“That’s fair.” He swung open the door and made his leave.

. . .

Superball had received Mama Bosco’s update that the device to revert Max back was finally ready to be executed, and now found himself sitting at Max’s office desk in the White House with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his face, eyeing the phone next to him in deep thought. 

There was no absolute guarantee that this plan would work. None at all. It was just as likely that it would fail and he would be required to step in and terminate Max as it was that it would work and he wouldn’t have to do such a horrible thing. But if he had to, he really should. People were losing their homes, getting hurt and even ending up in the hospital in comatose states. If this didn’t work, then he’d be forced to follow through with the termination - for the greater good of the people. But suppose the method for termination was the wrong way to go? Suppose it would sooner put more citizens in trouble than stop the chaos? This was no ordinary case, after all…

...He finally decided to pick up the phone and dial, and put it to his ear and waited patiently as it rang. Eventually, after a few rings, his call was picked up. “ _ Yes? _ ”

“Good morning, Mr. Lincoln. Agent Superball speaking.”

“ _ Ah, Superball. You’re calling a little early. If you’re worried I won’t be there in time, there’s no need. I have all of my arrangements in order- _ ”

“Actually, sir, I’m calling to inform you I’m taking you off standby.”

“ _ Oh? I’m guessing you have that monster taken care of already, then? _ ” Superball didn’t respond. “ _...I’m not hearing a yes. _ ”

“I have decided to take a different course of action. One that does not require you leading the charge.”

“ _ Well then, if not me, then who? Or is there not even going to be a charge anymore? _ ”

“I will do what I must.”

“ _ Suuure you will _ .” Abe’s tone was sarcastic. “ _ Face it, Agent, you’re letting your soft spot get in the way of your better judgement. _ ”

“I am not. I would just prefer to take a more cautious approach than what I was discussing with you.”

“ _ He isn’t a person anymore. It’s a monster. I’m surprised you even considered trying to preserve its life to begin with- _ ”

“You accuse me of letting my ‘soft spot’ get in the way of my judgement. I could say that maybe you may be letting your own opinions cloud yours.”

“ _ I only wish to keep the people of my country safe and alive. _ ” Superball hummed. “ _ Here is what shall happen; I will be coming down anyway, since I’ve already prepared the proper arrangements and it’s a little late to cancel. And besides, Sybil’s been excited to come home - I haven’t told her about what’s been happening yet because I didn’t wish to worry her. And when I finally get there, if that beast is not dealt with, then I will do as you have instructed me. _ ”

“You can’t just do that.”

  
“ _ You’ve already given me the permission and the access. To try and stop me wouldn’t be particularly smart. _ ” Superball remained quiet. “ _...See you then, Agent. _ ” The phone clicked upon him hanging up.


	17. Operation: Maxthulu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission to save Max is underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for full reading experience, i suggest listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VokRpoy08I

**Sunday night, 33:28:18 remaining**

_ We had best make this quick _ , Yog-Soggoth - who was tucked away and hidden while they were out and about - said to his host.

“I was not planning on taking long,” Papierwaite murmured in reply as he entered through the broken doors of his museum. “It is just a quick walk to the office and then- oh, mon  _ Dieux _ .” Upon walking in, he was immediately met with the sight of the museum trashed far worse than it had been when he’d left it.

Since they were away from prying eyes, the creature decided to wriggle out from the folds of the man’s robe. “...I do not suppose you figure the clones did this when they broke in to capture us.”

“No. It could not be. This all appears more...deliberate.”

“That was what I was thinking as well.”

“Do you think that the spell book was-?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose. Better hurry.”

. . .

“Where  _ is _ he?” Mama Bosco said as she paced around the lab. “He was supposed to be back  _ before _ sunset.”

“He could just be stuck in traffic,” Flint suggested. “Hasn’t been easy gettin’ around when every other street’s closed off.”

Papierwaite had taken off a while ago to fetch his spell book, leaving Mama Bosco, Sam, Flint and Superball (as well as ‘Sammy’, naturally) waiting in the lab. The plan was for Papierwaite to charm whoever was going to be approaching Max with the device to hopefully ward off the spores, as to keep them from being lulled while eighty feet above the ground. However, they’d been waiting on him the whole time, and he’d yet to return.

“We’re runnin’ outta time,” Sam murmured, then stood up from his seat and turned to the scientist. “Give me the device, I’ll do it-”

“No,” she said at once, shaking her head. “Not happening.”

“I could do it without his spells, okay. I’m good at not listening, I could just ignore the spores and-”

“ _ No _ . I’m not letting you risk your life like that - and Max wouldn’t want you to, either. We’ll just have to wait.”

The dog heaved a sigh and returned back to his seat, leaning back. This lasted only a moment before he heard the elevator coming down, and quickly stood up and looked over along with the rest of the group as Papierwaite came down. “What the hell took ya’ so long?”

“Well,” Papierwaite replied, “There was something a little...unexpected that came up.”

“...What do you mean?” Sam asked warily.

“I went straight to the museum as I said I would, with full intention of retrieving my book. When I arrived, however, I found that my beloved museum had been completely ransacked. Everything else was accounted for, but…”

“...The book was gone.” 

The sorcerer nodded. Sam went quiet for a moment for two, then looked over at Mama Bosco, but before he could even open his mouth, she sternly said, “The answer’s still no.” She looked at Papierwaite. “Is there no way for you to cast the spell without it?”

“I am a master of my craft, but not even I can claim that I am perfect at what I do. If I try to cast it without some aid, we could wind up having another incident.”

“Well, we don’t want that,” she murmured, brows furrowing. “...Could you be able to ward off the spores  _ without _ charming anyone?”

“Of course! That would be no issue. That would mean I have to go with them.”

“Right.”

“ _ And _ they would also need to be able to hold out if a spore  _ did _ reach them.”

The lady put a hand on her chin and hummed. “That  _ is _ a tougher one…” She saw Sam open his mouth again. “No offense,” she said before he could speak, “But you look the most exhausted out of all of us.”

“Oh, c’mo- we’re  _ all _ tired!” Sam protested. “With this logic,  _ none _ of us can do it!”

“...What about him?” Flint asked, pointing at ‘Sammy’.

Everyone glanced over at the clone, then looked back at him. “...You are kidding, right?” Yog-Soggoth asked.

“Not really. I mean, look at ‘im. You don’t see any bags under  _ his _ eyes.”

“He is unusually perky for someone who hasn’t slept in nearly a week,” Mama Bosco murmured in agreement, though she didn’t look too certain. “...I dunno, though, I don’t wanna see him get hurt.”

“I am not particularly sure if there is much choice,” Papierwaite murmured.

“...Eh, t’ hell with it,” Sam said, going over to the clone and saying, “You could handle it, couldn’t ya’?”

Though clearly not fully understanding, ‘Sammy’ smiled, his tail beginning to wag. 

“Yeah, ya’ could.” He turned back to the scientist. “He’d do what ya’ tell ‘im, he could do it no problem.”

She still seemed doubtful of the idea, but then sighed. “If there really isn’t any other choice, then...I suppose he’ll have to do.” She straightened her shoulders and continued, “I’ll give him the proper equipment needed to proceed with the plan.”

“Do ya’ mind also givin’ him clothes?” Sam asked. “I don’t think he needs t’ be half-naked while doin’ this. In fact, he probably shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll do that too.” She looked at Papierwaite, and said, “And when you two get out there,  _ please _ don’t let anything happen to him.”

“I will do my hardest and my best, ma’am,” the man replied.

“Perfect. This shouldn’t take too long, now…” 

She gently guided the dog clone over to where the equipment was to prepare him to go out. Sam and Papierwaite’s gazes followed them, before Sam’s ears perked and he turned to the sorcerer and dug in his pockets. “Here,” he said, then tossed his car keys, Papierwaite fumbling them for a moment before getting a secure hold on them. “Save ya’ the taxi fare.”

“Oh! Um…” The man frowned with uncertainty, looking between the keys and the dog before giving an awkward laugh. “I am embarrassed to admit this, but I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “Don’t actually know how to drive.”

“That’s alright, ‘cause-” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at his clone, “-he will.”

Papierwaite blinked at him as if he’d suddenly formed two heads. “...Pardon?”

. . .

Some time after that, the sorcerer was finding himself yelling in pure fear at the top of his lungs, clutching to his seat belt as the DeSoto was speeding down the streets. ‘Sammy’, who was behind the wheel, was panting in his excitement, his ears flopping everywhere in the wind. “You should’ve just decided to drive yourself, Anton!” Yog-Soggoth yelled, his tentacles also clutching the seatbelt.

“I didn’t think he’d go this fa-” he started saying, before cutting himself off with a scream as the clone took a sharp corner, the tires squealing as the car turned.

“ _ Remember, Sammy- _ ” Mama Bosco - who was back in the lab, instructing the clone through a microphone and watching everything through a camera on the goggles he was wearing - said into the dog clone’s headphones, “ _ -Follow the directions I gave you! _ ” After she’d said that, ‘Sammy’ glanced at the GPS screen she’d given him, which had a red blinking dot where Max was located, and continued down the street.

“I feel like I might be sick-”

“Papierwaite, I swear, if you  _ vomit on me- _ ”

“ _ Wait, wait- stop! _ ”

The clone stepped on the brakes suddenly, the car squealing to a stop and causing the man in the passenger seat to fly forward and bang his face off the dashboard. “Bon sang pour ma vie-” he cussed, holding his nose and squeezing his eyes in pain, “Mon  _ nez- _ ”

“ _ The building on your right has stairs right to the roof. Go, before he gets too far ahead! _ ”

“What was she saying?” Yog-Soggoth answered tiredly, ignoring Papierwaite’s mutters.

‘Sammy’ pointed at the building the scientist had been referring to, making both the creature and the man look over. Papierwaite sighed. “Alright - let us waste no time.” He let go of his nose to open the car door and get out.

“ _ You have the device, yeah? _ ” she asked ‘Sammy’. He checked the pocket on the large lab coat she’d given him (the only piece of clothing she could find on short notice, unfortunately) and felt the syringe-like device in there, then gave a thumbs up right in front of his face so she could see. “ _ Good boy! Now go on, follow Papierwaite! _ ” He did as she instructed.

“Did ya’ really just call him a good boy?” Sam asked, raising a brow.

Mama Bosco covered the mic with a hand, and said, “He’s a  _ good boy _ , Sam.”

“Yeah, but it just seems weird-”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Doctor Mama Bosco,” Superball spoke up. “They are getting in position now, yes?”

“Yes, they are. If everything keeps going as smoothly as this, Sammy should be able to get on top of Max’s head and inject the tumour in no time.”

“Hopefully it continues to go smoothly, then.”

“Hopefully.” She turned back to the screen, which now showed Papierwaite holding the dog clone’s hand and leading him up the flight of stairs. She refused to voice this feeling - to damage everyone’s hopes by planting a seed of negativity and anxiety in their heads - but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all going a little... _ too _ smoothly. Like any moment, the whole plan was going to crash and crumble without any warning and without any means of salvaging it. Hopefully this was just her worrying about failing. Hopefully this feeling wasn’t going to come true.

Hopefully.

After some time spent going up the stairs in the building, Papierwaite eventually opened the door that led to the roof. “Finally,” he murmured, leading ‘Sammy’ up behind him, letting go of his hand.

As the dog clone began to look around and wander the roof, Yog-Soggoth turned his head to see the large amphibian-like creature making his way towards them. “The spores will start swarming once he reaches here…” he murmured.

“I know,” Papierwaite replied. “But I can handle them.”

‘Sammy’ was now standing near the edge of the roof and looking in Max’s direction. “ _ Get ready, _ ” Mama Bosco instructed him, making his ears perk slightly under the headphones. “ _ When he comes by, you need to jump on him, okay? _ ” 

The dog clone looked down over the edge of the building that led  _ allll _ the way down to the pavement below and gave a small whimper at the sheer height of it. 

“ _ No, no, you’ll be okay! Papierwaite won’t let you fall, I promise. Look- get the device ready. _ ” Although still nervous, he pulled out the syringe-like device, clutching it close to his chest.

The tall building now began to tremble slightly as the beast grew closer. “Get ready,” Yog-Soggoth murmured to Papierwaite upon noticing some of the spores stopping mid-air and looking in their direction. In response, the sorcerer’s hands sparked with magical energy. The spores, though still containing those wide grins, seemed hesitant to approach.

“ _ Alright, here he comes, Sammy! _ ” Mama Bosco said as Max started getting within range of the building. “ _ Get ready...now! _ ” ‘Sammy’ didn’t budge. “ _...Okay, now! _ ” He still didn’t budge.

“What’s happening?” Sam asked, going over to the scientist.

“He’s too scared,” she said, “He won’t move.”

“Dammit-” he said low under his breath, making a gesture for her to move aside. She promptly did so, and he leaned into the mic. “Hey, c’mon, boy - just jump!” He still wasn’t budging. “You’re gonna miss this chance, Sammy, come  _ on! _ ”

“He’s not moving,” Yog-Soggoth pointed out to the sorcerer at once. “Do something!”

“Like wh-”

“ _ Anything _ , just get him on there!”

Reluctant to go through with the only idea he had in mind but urgent to get the rest of this plan moving, Papierwaite ran forward and shouldered the dog clone right between the shoulder blades, making ‘Sammy’ yelp in surprise as he was sent flying towards Max’s head. He extended both of his hands and managed to grip onto the amphibian/lagomorph’s head-

“ _ Sammy, the dev- THE DEVICE! _ ” Sam shouted urgently.

The dog clone had accidentally let go of the syringe-like device in his attempt to catch himself, but as soon as it was brought to his attention, he looked down to see the device falling. He let go at once and allowed himself to fall after it. The device bounced once off of Max’s shoulder and would have continued falling had ‘Sammy’ not landed on his stomach painfully on the shoulder and extended his head just enough to grab it in his jaws. His body began slipping sideways, and he just barely managed to regain his grip to prevent himself from falling.

“Oh, be careful!” Mama Bosco said into the mic, clutching her chest in worry.

“That was not quite what I meant-” Yog-Soggoth murmured.

“You said ‘anything’!” the sorcerer argued, “Don’t criticize-”

“Wait, stop- pay attention, they’re coming!”

‘They’, of course, being the spores, who were now targeting ‘Sammy’, undoubtedly because they believed he was a threat to their host, chattering before they’d even reached him. Papierwaite at once swung his arm and sent a stream of green aura their way. They ended up being blown away with a chorus of ‘Wheee!’

‘Sammy’ was attempting to climb back up, and placed an extended hand over one of the pink, glowing marks on the creature’s shoulder - and immediately retracted it when Max gave a startled, pained growl and the pink mark actually  _ blinked _ a few times, as one would when they suddenly got something in their eye. He gave a confused whine.

“The fur!” Yog-Soggoth called from the top of the building as Papierwaite warded off the spores. “Use the fur on your right!”

The dog clone looked up at him, before looking to his right as he was told. Indeed, there was plenty of curly fur that was around the entire base of Max’s neck and trailed down to the bottom of his chest. He looked down, his brows furrowing and a deep frown appearing on his face-

“ _ Don’t look down, _ ” Sam told him. “ _ You can reach, you’ll be okay. _ ”

‘Sammy’ huffed through his nose, and looked back at the fur. He extended an arm quickly and missed, and promptly brought it back before he’d lose his grip. He waited a few moments, his heart pounding in his chest, then tried again. He managed to get ahold of the fur, and shortly after he did, he let his other hand go and swung once before managing to get a grip on the fur with that hand as well. His breathing was panicked, and he had to take a moment to steel his courage before beginning to climb up again.

As he climbed, he saw light quickly approaching in the corner of his vision, and, startled, he’d turned his head to see the spores coming towards him again, babbling away. A green light suddenly flashing made him shut his eyes to brace himself, though when the vision behind his eyelids showed only darkness, he peeked an eye out and saw that they were gone.

“Keep going!” Papierwaite shouted, getting his attention. “Ignore them, I’ve got them - just keep going!” ‘Sammy’ gave a nod, and resumed.

He reached the beast’s shoulder once again, and - while avoiding accidentally stepping on the eyes - got to his feet. Not even a full moment after he did, Max began shaking as if trying to shake off an insect, and ‘Sammy’ found himself nearly falling over and grabbing onto the fur again before his footing slipped, his legs hitting against the creature’s back. It was obvious Max knew he was here, and it was more obvious that he wanted him  _ off _ . But he couldn’t get off - he had to do what Mama Bosco told him to do first! But he couldn’t climb higher if the monster kept shaking…

He looked around for an alternate route, and his eyes settled on two things - the massive shark fin, and the floppy ears that resembled tentacles that were swishing this way and that as Max shook.

His grip tightened on the fur as he pushed past the wave of fear that went through him at the thought of what he was about to do - then he pushed himself off and allowed himself to fall before his midsection hit the top of shark fin, causing the headphones to fly off his head and fall further and further down towards the pavement.

“ _ Dammit! _ ” Mama Bosco cursed, pounding a fist on the panel.

“What happened?” Sam asked, “What was that?”

“Those were the headphones, we can’t communicate with him!”

“Are you serious!?  _ God- _ ”

“Come on, Sammy,” she said at the screen, “It’s up to you now, hon.”

‘Sammy’ allowed himself to slip so that he was on one side of the fin, gripping the edge of it with his whole arms. He was keeping a watchful eye on those large ears as they swung back and forth, trying to note when they were swinging away and swinging towards him.

“What’s he doing?” Papierwaite asked.

“I don’t know, I can’t see,” Yog-Soggoth replied.

The dog clone’s brows furrowed in determination, and he lifted himself so that his feet were on the edge of the fin.

“Wait - there he i- oh no.

“What? What’s he doing!?”

“He’s about to-!”

When the ears were about to swing his way, he pushed his feet off the fin and outstretched all his limbs forwards. He was soon hugging the tip of the ear with his whole body. Max stopped shaking, but was certainly annoyed by the persistence of the clone, and let out a roar that sent vibrations through ‘Sammy’s’ whole body, making his fur stand on end and hurting his ears and head. Once the beast had stopped roaring, though, the dog clone quickly shook his head and ignored the pain, and started shimmying up the amphibian-like creature’s ear. He yelped in surprise when Max had decided to perk his ears forward, and tightened his grip. However, he looked down and noticed that the top of Max’s head was right below him. Bracing himself, he let go and just barely managed to spin himself around and practically belly flopped onto the beast’s head.

Sam couldn’t help but wince watching. “That had to’ve hurt…”

Mama Bosco, however, felt excitement rushing through her body. “ _ Yes _ , he’s on. Okay-” She was rapidly typing away on the panel faster than anyone in the lab with her could register, sending information straight to the clone’s goggles. “All you gotta do is find it,” she murmured.

As the clone painfully got to his hands and knees, there was an audible  _ ding _ that made his ears perk, and he soon found there was a red light appearing in the distance on his goggles. He tilted his head slightly, and while staying on his hands and knees for safety reasons, he started going in its direction.

“Is he on there?” the sorcerer asked.

“He is, yes.”

“Good. These spores are getting more persistent-”

“Well, no  _ wonder _ . They think he’s a  _ threat _ .”

“I am just not sure how much longer I can keep up with them.”

Surely enough, the dog clone did hear the sound of chattering behind him, and looked over his shoulder just in time to duck his head, a spore whizzing right past. He kept moving towards the red dot, ignoring the light approaching out of his peripheral until it got too close, to which then he looked directly at the spore with an annoyed expression and waved a hand at it, forcing it to back off. As soon as he lowered himself and resumed crawling again, though, it was about to sneak up on him-

“Anton!”

“I see it!”

-And a blast of green energy promptly sent it away from ‘Sammy’, who was none the wiser as to what was occurring, focusing all of his attention on reaching the area where the dot was.

He eventually reached it, the red light shining bright in his eyes on his goggles. Realizing that this must have been for the device he was holding, he finally removed it from between his jaws and positioned it in his hand so that the needle was pointed downwards. With that determined look appearing on his face once again, he raised the syringe-like device high - then slammed it right down, piercing it right into the beast’s scalp, which earned a startled growl from him. Removing his hand from around the device, he then began pushing the lever on it down.

“ _ YES! _ ” Sam was cheering. “It’s  _ in _ , he got it in!” Flint cheered behind him, and the two promptly clasped hands before half-hugging each other, the dog laughing ecstatically.

Mama Bosco, however, was wide-eyed and worried. “It’s not working.”

Sam’s laughter died down at once, and he turned to the scientist, his smile faltering only slightly, as if he hadn’t quite fully registered what she’d said. “...What?” She didn’t respond, for she was busy rapidly pressing buttons on the panel. His smile faded completely. “What- ...what do you mean ‘not working’?”

“It’s just- it’s not working-” She pulled back up the initial scan she’d taken that had shown where the tumour had been located, and the highlighted spot was now flashing purple with an error on the screen. “There’s something blocking it, there’s something preventing it from working-”

Now panicked and desperate, he returned to her side in front of the screen, and said, “Well, how do we get rid of it so it  _ can!? _ ”

“I don’t know! This is nothing like I’ve ever seen, it- it almost looks like-”

“Dark matter,” Yog-Soggoth murmured upon seeing the faint wisps of what could only be described as purple smoke began leaking out from where ‘Sammy’ had jabbed him with the device, which made the dog clone whimper in confusion at the sight.

“Ohhh, they are not going to be happy about this,” Papierwaite said, frowning deeply at the sight.

“We have to get him-” Referring to ‘Sammy’, “-out of there  _ now _ .”

The sorcerer nodded in agreement, then put his hands on either side of his mouth and called, “Sammy!” The clone turned to look at him with perked ears at once. He then made a gesture with his arm for him to come here, yelling, “Let’s go!”

‘Sammy’ hesitated for a moment before getting to his feet and beginning to break out for a full run, attempting to get a running start. He eventually pushed himself off of Max’s head and began flying through the air, with Papierwaite outstretching his arms just in case he needed to be caught-

But instead, the thing that caught ‘Sammy’ was a large, webbed hand, which grabbed him mid-air and held onto him tight.

“Oh no!” Mama Bosco exclaimed at once upon seeing what had happened.

The dog clone immediately began to struggle as the hand moved - but upon seeing the face of the beast, he froze, then began to shake at the sight of those beady eyes staring down at him. The monster’s jaws opened slightly, a low growl escaping his lips. ‘Sammy’ could feel the hot breath on his face-

“Max!” Yog-Soggoth shouted, “Don’t hurt hi-”

On the screen back at Mama Bosco’s lab, they saw Max opening his jaws wide one moment - and then there was just static the next.

The lady couldn’t help but give a devastated cry, putting her hands over her face before finding Superball had placed a hand on her shoulder, and turning to wrap her arms around him at once, which he returned.

Sam, meanwhile, was just staring blankly at the screen of static before him, his shoulders slumped. Flint was looking at him with an expression of sympathy, and soon found himself placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder as well. All the dog could do was lower his head.

  
They’d had  _ one _ shot. And they  **failed** .


	18. Preparing To Make A Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶.̶

**Sunday night, 30:14:44 remaining**

After much time spent only being able to stand and watch as the beast that was Max cruelly chewed on the clone, Papierwaite had been able to retrieve him and return him to the lab - harmed badly, but otherwise  _ alive _ . There, Mama Bosco tended to the poor dog clone’s wounds, eventually placing a cone over his head and around his neck once she was done. ‘Sammy’ whimpered pitifully once she’d done so.

“Oh, I know, hon,” she murmured, “It’s only for a little while, though. Don’t want you itching at those wounds…” Just as she’d done several times since he’d been returned again, she reached and scratched behind his ear and cooed, “You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are.” And just as it had every time she’d done it, he gave a smile and wagged his tail, shutting his eyes in appreciation of the praise. “You just rest easy now, okay?” She retracted her hand, and left the clone sitting on the table, and gave a deep sigh through her nose. “Alright,” she said, her tone shifting to one that was more serious - and, also, more tired - and turned to face the sorcerer and the creature attached to him. “You said you knew what happened, so...talk to me.”

In reply, Yog-Soggoth simply said two words: “Dark matter.”

“And what is that?”

“It is...a sort of energy that we Elder Gods produce. It is often what results in the negative side effects in mortal life - comas, the mobs...I did not believe Max would be able to produce it since he had never been in contact with the Dark Dimension, but alas, here I am, once again being proven wrong by the uniqueness of the situation.”

“I see. But if it’s only meant to affect mortal life, then why did it prevent my device from working?”

“To...try and put it in a way that makes sense, your goal had been, in a manner of speaking, to drag the parts that made Max himself back out in order to turn him back.” She hummed. “Well...the Dark matter acted as a sort of wall, preventing your device from accessing those parts. It is, more or less, keeping him locked within his own head.”

“But we can bypass it, right?” Sam, who’d been sitting with his head down in a chair for a majority of the time since they’d failed in saving Max as they’d planned, asked suddenly, making everyone glance in his direction. “Or- or get rid of it, or- whatever. It can be fixed, right?”

Yog-Soggoth eyed him sympathetically, then lowered his gaze. “If we could destroy the tumour before the Dark matter spread to the rest of his brain, we would be able to stop it-”

“Perfect, how do w-”

“-but,” the creature continued, “the only way to do that would be through the Chthonic Destroyer, which...well...if the Toys of Power were destroyed along with the rest of the Toybox, then…”

The dog’s ears drooped. “...So that’s it. There’s  _ nothing _ we can do.”

“No, Sam,” Mama Bosco said, “There’s still time, we can figure something out-”

“No, we can’t! You heard what he said-” He gestured to the creature. “We were doomed t’ fail from the start-”

“There is not  _ nothing _ we can do,” she said sternly, “There is always  _ something _ .”

“Yeah, well, by the time we figure it out, there ain’t gonna be anything left of Max, whether it’s ‘cause of this stupid Dark matter, or because he’s- he’s…” He decided not to finish that sentence.

A silence filled the room. Eventually, Agent Superball, somewhat awkwardly, decided to speak up. “As Doctor Mama Bosco alluded to, there’s still a little over thirty hours left. True to my word, I will be taking no action until that time is up.” The silence continued. He looked over at Sam, who looked up at him. “...I really don’t wish to do anything...horrible.”

“...I know,” was all Sam murmured.

The agent sighed through his nose, then looked over at Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth. “Sirs, if I could have a word in private?”

The man blinked in surprise, but nodded. “Of course.” Superball, in turn, nodded, then started leaving. Papierwaite followed after him, leaving the rest of the group in the lab.

Sam’s gaze followed them before he lowered his head again. His ear twitched, however, at the sound of a whine, and he looked over to see ‘Sammy’ looking right at him. He knew well that the clone, in his own way, was apologizing for failing. The dog could only sigh quietly and mumble, “It’s alright, bud. Ya’ did what ya’ could.” His gaze fell to the floor, and added under his breath, “‘Sides, I’d sure hate t’ be you right now…”

The agent led Papierwaite into a hallway, the two eventually stopping across from each other. “What is it that I can do for you, sir?” the sorcerer inquired.

“I just have some questions regarding this Dark matter and regarding my part in all of this.”

“You are wondering if you will be able to kill him,” Yog-Soggoth stated bluntly.

Superball hesitated. “Yes.”

“Currently, the only part of his brain that is saturated with Dark matter is his tumour,” Papierwaite explained. “He is still as susceptible to injury as a creature of his size and strength could be. But once it begins truly trying to spread…”

“...He won’t be able to be taken out,” the agent guessed.

“It would be no different than if an Old God had been summoned into this realm to wreak havoc and destroy it.”

“I see. I presume that the window of opportunity isn’t too large, then.”

“At this stage, no. Not particularly,” Yog-Soggoth said. “Now that the tumour’s been fully infected, it will not take long for the Dark matter to spread to the rest of the brain.”

“...I see.” He glanced down off to the side, appearing thoughtful, then looked right back at them. “Thank you, sirs, for your time.”

“Take care,” Papierwaite said.

. . .

The plane’s engine roared, making it so the inside cabins were never entirely quiet. And yet the silence that Abraham’s wife had been giving him since they left the hotel was incredibly apparent. While he was in the seat next to the aisle, she was beside the window, looking out of it and arms crossed on top of the large baby bump she had, a frown set on her features.

“You sure you don’t want these pretzels, sweetheart?” he asked. She didn’t answer. “Really not hungry, huh?” Still no response. He let out a deep sigh. “Still won’t talk to me.” She certainly did not take the bait on that comment. “...I know, I know. You’re upset. But I gotta do what I gotta-”

“If you say that one more time,” Sybil said, “I might smash your nose in with a hammer.”

“Aw, honey, you don’t mean that.”

“Sure I do.”

“But it’s  _ true _ , Sybil. New York City isn’t safe so long as that monster-”

“That monster happens to be one of my best friends. Which, by the way, I  _ know _ you purposely tried to leave out. Thankfully, I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you-” A sigh. “Listen, if  _ I _ don’t step in, people could die! Do you want that to happen?”

“Oh, shut up. Don’t guilt me into seeing your side.”

“Sweetie, I’m not-”

“When we get to New York,” she continued, interrupting him, “I’m going straight to Sam and helping him in what _ ever _ way I can. You hear me? Unlike you, I’m going to  _ help _ .”

“Now, is that really a wise decision? I mean, given your condition-”

“You have me on a plane, and you wanna talk about my ‘condition’?”

“Well, you didn’t have to come. You could’ve stayed back in the hotel,” he muttered.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “You are  _ absolutely _ unbelievable.”

“I’m just saying-”

“Let’s be honest here. The only reason you even care about ‘the people of NYC’ is because you see this as an opportunity to make yourself look better.”

“Is this a professional analysis, miss ‘licensed psychotherapist?’”

“Oh, honey, even if I wasn’t once a psychotherapist, I’d see right through your bullcrap. This is your chance to be the hero, right? The one who led the vicious onslaught against who was once a completely innocent person?”

“I’m not sure if ‘innocent’ is the word I’d use.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” she muttered, finally turned her gaze back out towards the window.

“Oh, so you’re gonna ignore me again? That’s real mature.” She did not respond. “Oh,  _ come _ on-”

. . .

**Monday evening, 11:46:23 remaining**

“Damn it  _ ALL! _ ” Skun-ka’pe yelled, flinging what remained of the leatherbound book with full force.

The book ended up smacking against the front of the brain’s tank, making him give a startled yelp. “By the Gods, you fitful ape, if you are going to throw yet  _ another _ tantrum, would you at least watch where you are  _ aiming!? _ ”

The general ignored it, and instead begun ranting, “I have been sitting here,  _ WASTING _ my valuable time with this stupid book and I have achieved  _ nothing _ aside from a severe  _ lacking in patience! _ ”

“Least you gave it a shot,” Stinky commented. The space gorilla, in turn, shot her a nasty glare. “ _ What? _ ”

“I should have never listened to your  _ ridiculous _ suggestion-”

“Hey, don’t blame  _ me _ . How was I supposed to know there would be a century worth of spells in there?”

He growled lowly. “No matter. I might have gained nothing from this, but neither have you.”

“So I’m being reminded,” she replied sarcastically.

“Now we are all once again at square one - no clone for you, no brain matter for the ship, and no closer to having access to the Chthonic Destroyer.”

“Pity,” Sammun-Mak murmured. “And to think we were beginning to look forward to seeing it in action. We would have enjoyed witnessing the destruction it could cause.”

“Well, if either of you had actually bothered to  _ help _ me-”

“I told you,” Stinky spoke up, annoyed, “I don’t read French, and he-” Referring to Sammun-Mak, “-died years before France even existed.” Skun-ka’pe merely groaned, annoyed as well.

“‘Tis a shame that none of the molepeople are around,” the brain said, making Skun-ka’pe pause. “They’re awful, conniving rats, but they are clever and mystically inclined. They would likely know better than anyone else in this realm.”

“Are you  _ kidding? _ ” the lady replied with a raised brow. “Clearly you’ve never met a moleman of  _ this _ era, because you’d find almost all of ‘em are pretty pathetic.”

The gorilla, however, had a hand on his chin. “It is true,” he said, “that the modern moleman has been a... _ major _ step backwards, evolution-wise. However, it seems there still remains some individuals who are familiar with their old ways.”

“Oh?” Sammun-Mak asked, genuinely intrigued. “You have seen these molemen?”

“I have. And I am willing to bet that they will still be right where I left them.”

“And what makes you think  _ they’ll _ have a way to give you what you want?” Stinky questioned.

“Because if they do not, then...well, you should know by now what I do when people are of no  _ use _ to me.”

“How could I forget?” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

The general then turned to face his crew, and said, “We will storm them, and take them by surprise. Block all the exits and give them no chance to escape. With their being underground,  _ we  _ will have the advantage. They will either give us full access to the Chthonic Destroyer, or they will die trying. We  _ will _ have our recompense for our lost prize…”

While he continued to rattle on, Stinky decided to spare a glance towards the upper deck, and Sammun-Mak turned to look back at her - and she knew well that they were sharing the exact same thought. All they had to do was wait for the brigade to take off once more.

. . .

Since the first signs of the monster that had once been Max, the Boxists had found themselves feeling uneasy at the situation - which only grew deeper the longer it continued. While the coming of the Devil Bunny in one of his truest forms was foretold, he should have been restored right now. Where was the Eidolon in all of this?

That night, Obediah finally said, “We must find him. He is lost, and he will only find guidance with us.”

“But will he listen to us? He lives in a modern world. He may not believe us.”

“It may be true that he is a skeptic, but there is no doubt in my mind that he has witnessed happenings that cannot be explained. If he does not believe in prophecy, then he can be convinced. Regardless, we must tell him.”

“And if he does not listen?”

“Then the Seers of our ancestors have failed us, and we were destined to be doomed. I do not believe that we are so unlucky-”

“Wait,” Jebidiah said suddenly, his head having snapped in the direction towards the tunnel, “Do you hear that?”

Obediah listened, and indeed there was the completely unsubtle sound of clamouring on the other side of the tunnel, and one deep voice may as well have boomed over the sound of everything else. “It is  _ him! _ ” he said, keeping his voice low.

“But why? We have nothing!”

“We do not, but that will not stop him from thinking we do.” Obediah turned to his fellow moleman at once, and placed his hand on his shoulders. “You must go now, and find the Eidolon.”

“What? What about you? We should be going together!”

“Nay, Jebidiah - I must stay behind and delay him so as to protect you.”

“But brother, he will-” He was cut off by the sound of debris clacking down the tunnel and onto the ground, the sounds of the gorillas getting closer.

“Go now!” Obediah whispered, “Take the secret exit and do not turn back for anything, not even me!”

Jebidiah, obviously, was reluctant. But it was either he left and found the Eidolon, or they were both trapped and everyone else would be doomed. “...Survive, Obediah,” he murmured, then promptly turned and fled.

Obediah allowed his gaze to linger as he watched the other flee, but forced himself to turn towards the tunnel. It was all too shortly after that the pale gorilla emerged from its exit, some of his disciples appearing behind him. “Moleman,” Skun-ka’pe said, “We meet again.”

“So we do,” Obediah replied calmly.

The General scanned the underground carefully. No doubt, he noticed that the other moleman was not present. His gaze fell back on the Boxist before him, but his stare was met with a passive gaze. “...What do you know of magic, moleman?”

“Plenty. It has been in the blood of my ancestors for centuries.”

“And what of your blood?”

“How about you tell me first why you are asking.” Skun-ka’pe decided to comply. However, Obediah was not expecting him to have in hand the Chthonic Destroyer - the very weapon that had ended the dark reign of the Elder Gods and sparked the beginnings of Boxism. Thankfully, he was able to keep his surprise hidden, his expression still remaining reserved. “...So you have passed the Trial?”

“No. I have not. Which is precisely why I am here.”

“If you did not pass the Trial, then who did? And how did you retrieve it from them?”

“That does not matter. What matters is that it is in my possession, and I need it. Of course, I cannot. I am to understand you may be able to help with that.”

“Mm. And in what way do you believe I can?”

“Remove the spell that binds its ownership to but a single person, so that I may use it.”

“Have you not tried asking for explicit permission from the owner?”

“I highly doubt he would let me. Now, can you remove the spell or not?”

“I cannot.”

Those amber eyes narrowed, his lip twitching in annoyance. “Cannot or  _ will _ not?”

“Well, I cannot, for the magic my ancestors possessed was far more potent than what I could ever hope for. But even if that were not the case, why would I ever provide aid to you?”

The gorilla growled, and said, “If you cherish your safety-”

“I cherish my  _ faith _ ,” he said sharply. “I cherish the beliefs that my ancestors had spent centuries- nay,  _ thousands _ of years establishing. I cherish the teachings that I was raised with that stated that to have fear for one’s own safety is natural, but to give into the demands of the tyrannical out of fear is to feed into the evil that roots itself into the mantle of the Earth. So no, I cannot give you what you demand, but even if I could then yes, I would rather die than give it to you.”

Skun-ka’pe stared down at him, fuming, and Obediah could see his minions looking at him expectantly - no doubt expecting him to follow through on his threat. Eventually, the General sighed deeply through his nose, and said lowly, “Fine. If  _ that _ is what you cherish…” His gaze turned to the shrine, then to his crew. “Destroy it all!”

Obediah did not watch as the minions did as they were told. Instead, he stubbornly kept his eyes on the ground, and tried not to flinch or cry out as the sound of stone being smashed and metal being torn down met his ears, seemingly echoing in the relatively empty underground.

“And search for his acquaintance!” Skun-ka’pe demanded. “He must be here somewhere!” He turned to the other moleman, and said, “Maybe if your own death does not bother you, maybe  _ his _ will.” Obediah did not respond.

Jebidiah, truthfully, had not fled immediately as he was meant to. He had vanished into the tunnel, yes, but he remained near the entrance and had listened to...well,  _ everything _ . If Obediah was to die, then he wanted to be there - to be able to say he did not flee like a coward. Thankfully, he did not have to experience such trauma - but as soon as he had heard the demand for his search, however, he had decided then that now was the best time to flee. He could not afford to get caught - he  _ had _ to find the Eidolon and pass on the information that he knew…

. . .

Sam found himself sitting at the edge of the bed, facing the cracked window and watched as the sun slowly set, the old radio saying, “ _ The monster has once again risen from the ocean and is now headed for New York. If you are not already inside, do so immediately. If you are located in the downtown area, be prepared to evacuate if necess- _ ” He reached over and shut it off, then continued staring out the window.

To say he was tired would be a severe understatement. Even saying he was exhausted wasn’t enough. He was completely and utterly drained of all he’d had left. His hope, his energy, his emotions - gone. It seemed as though there was nothing left but a hollow, numb shell of his usual self.

There was no way to save Max. Mama Bosco had said that maybe,  _ maybe _ the cloning machine would work as a last resort, but she seemed so uncertain that Sam could only assume that it wouldn’t. That she was just throwing whatever she could out there in a last, desperate attempt to find a way to save him. So there was no way. And given that these were going to be Max’s last hours...Sam decided that he was going to see him one last time.

But if he was going to see him, it was going to be  _ him _ . Not that creature that that damned Toybox had turned him into.

The dog heaved a deep sigh through his nose, and slowly leaned back until he was lying on the bed, with his legs still remaining over the edge. He stared at the chipped ceiling with blank eyes, hands folded on his stomach. His eyelids were heavy, having been fighting their desire to shut for the past few days. He stopped fighting, however, and allowed them to close.

About a minute passed, and at first Sam thought that, by some miracle, he wasn’t even tired enough to fall asleep like he’d wanted. Which, he wouldn’t have found all  _ that _ surprising. It was just like the universe, to deny him this one thing, even when there were more cons than pros. But when he’d decided to open them, he’d been surprised to find himself on the roof of a building. Actually, it was rather strange - his surroundings looked similar to that of New York City, but there were no other buildings anywhere other than ahead of him, all of which seemed to be connected by some form of bridge. 

He soon found himself dismissing the strangeness of it once his gaze fell on the lagomorph on the other side of the roof across from him, who had his back facing him.

“...Max?” Sam said quietly, sounding as if he wanted to be overjoyed but too wary and disbelieving to be so. “Is- ...is that you, li’l buddy...?”

Max did not respond. Instead, he began walking forward.

“Wait!” he called, wanting to follow but finding his feet refusing to move. “Where are you going?” 

The lagomorph continued forward, eventually reaching the bridge - and once he did, Sam’s ears perked at the sound of something crumbling behind him. He looked over, and was unpleasantly greeted with the sight of the building crumbling behind him. 

“Great day in the morning!” he exclaimed - and was incredibly grateful to find his feet actually cooperating with him now, and promptly ran before skidding to a halt on the bridge, looking back as the rest of the building crumbled into nothing. He didn’t linger in looking, however, and looked back over in Max’s direction and saw that he was almost off the bridge now. 

Understanding the hint that staying put and not moving forward for more than a few seconds was a very bad idea, he kept running forward, attempting to catch up with the lagomorph. However, it seemed that, in stereotypical dream fashion, no matter how fast he ran, he was always slower than Max’s walking speed, always just barely escaping a suddenly thousand foot drop. It felt like this was going to be an endless cycle of him always being  _ just _ out of reach of seeing his partner. Or maybe the cycle would end once he finally gave up and allowed the structure to crumble beneath him. Either way, it seemed oddly appropriate.

And then they reached a building that had no bridge or any building after it, and yet Max was still walking at the same pace.

“Max!” Sam tried calling, still running as fast as he could yet never quite being fast enough to catch up, “Max, don’t-!”

The lagomorph ended up walking right off of the edge of the building, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

Sam couldn’t help but give a cry of anguish, continuing to bolt towards the edge of the building and getting to his knees once he reached it and looked down. There was nothing other than an abyss, much less any sign of Max. 

“Max-!” he tried to cry, but it came out choked. Even in his dream, he was being punished, his mind undoubtedly exploiting that fear of losing his best friend now that it was becoming a reality. He lowered his head, shutting his eyes and quietly murmuring, “No...please…”

As he kept his eyes shut, however, there was soon light shining behind his eyelids, and warmth strong against his face, and he found himself blinking open his eyes and looking up - only to shoot right up to his feet at what he saw: A giant flaming Max head.

His first instinct had been to go  _ What the hell? _ But instead, he found himself staring up at it wide-eyed before saying, “Max?”

**_NYX'D NY DRSC._ **

The ancient language ringing in his ears sent a shiver right up his spine. It certainly sounded like Max’s voice, but-

**_IYE RKFO DY GKUO EZ._ **

“I-I-” the dog stammered. “...I don’t understand. What are you trying to tell me?”

**_GKUO EZ. ZVOKCO._ **

Sam was shocked to see that, despite the blank stare the Max head was giving, tears began to well up and fall down the lagomorph’s cheeks, forming what may as well have been waterfalls given his size. It seemed so unnatural to see Max - or even a dream version of him -  _ crying _ . Max almost never cried. As the sound of rushing water began to drown out the crackles of fire, the dog looked down to see a pool at the bottom of the building quickly forming. “W-Wait- please don’t cry-!”

**_ZVOKCO NYX'D QY IOD, CKW._ **

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” Sam called over the tears.

**_GKUO EZ._ **

**_S XOON IYE._ **

**_CDKI KGKUO._ **

**_GKUO EZ._ **

**_Q͘ O̶͘͟ D̴̶͝ ̛͝ Y̕̕͢͞͏ E͏͜͞ D̢̛.͏͠._ **

“...’Qod yed?’” he repeated in surprise, recognizing the phrase from Yog-Soggoth. “Wait-” 

Before he could even make his first guess on what Max’s voice was saying to him, his entire surroundings glitched - literally  _ glitched _ \- and he soon found himself no longer standing on a building with a massive, flaming, crying lagomorph head before him. Instead, he found himself on Skun-ka’pe’s ship. Huh, weird - the space gorilla had completely slipped his mind. Granted, he’d had far more important things going on than-

“Tell me, Sam,” that deep voice said smoothly behind him, making Sam audibly gasp and turn around to see the general standing before him in front of the two windows that made up the eyes on the ship. “Do you believe in the old tale that dying within your dreams means you die in the real world as well?”

Sam wanted to respond - to give some sort of snappy or witty remark - but found that his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, robbed of his voice, and thus he gave no response.

Skun-ka’pe gave that wide, sharp-toothed grin of his that Sam despised so damn much. “How about we test to see if it is actually true?”

Before the dog could even attempt to react, the windows suddenly exploded, flames quickly flooding into the ship and consuming the space gorilla and going right towards him. He didn’t even have time to run right as they reached him-

He was abruptly awoken by water being dumped right in his face, making him inhale sharply at how cold it was - which, in turn, made him accidentally inhale water and start coughing, forcing him to sit up.

“ _ Jesus, _ Sam,” Flint breathed once the worst of the dog’s coughing fit had passed, making Sam tense up, the feeling that he’d just been busted quickly sinking in. There was the sound of plastic being tossed not the floor as Flint said, “I come in t’ tell ya’ somethin’ and you’re passed the hell out!” 

He sounded pissed, and Sam couldn’t blame him. Flint wasn’t stupid - he probably knew that he did it on purpose. Sam couldn’t find it in himself to make eye contact, and continued to have his back facing the man, gaze fixed tiredly and guiltily on the floor.

“I mean, thank God I was able t’ wake ya’ up-” he continued, circling around the bed to stand in front of Sam, “What the hell would I have done if I couldn’t!?”

“...’M sorry,” Sam mumbled, still unable to look up at him. He felt ashamed and selfish - after all, he wasn’t the only one who was losing a friend here.

“...I’m not  _ angry _ , Sam,” Flint clarified, his tone sounding a little calmer. The man then took a seat beside his friend, and said, “I’ve been  _ worried _ , man. About  _ you _ . I just- I’ve never seen ya’ so…” He went quiet for a moment, trying to put the right word to it before settling on one: “Lost.”

Well...Sam couldn’t argue with that. “‘Ve never  _ felt _ more lost,” he replied quietly. He slowly lifted his head to look at the man. “I mean, he’s already  _ gone _ . Has been for the past week. I don’t know what I’m supposed t’ do without…” He trailed off, then shook his head and looked away. “I’m sorry. I sound so selfish...”

“Nah,” Flint replied at once. “I get it. You two have been friends before I even knew ya’. And…” He stopped himself before finishing that statement, and his brows furrowed slightly. “...This probably ain’t the best time, but mind if I ask somethin’? It’s been eatin’ at me for a while.”

“Shoot.”

“Did...did you two break up?”

Surprisingly, that question didn’t hurt as much now as it probably would have had he asked it all that time ago when they’d seen him in the diner. Then again, the pain of breaking up seemed like nothing compared to the pain of permanently losing someone very dear to him. And so he was able to reply calmly, “Yeah. We did.”

“Shit,” Flint cussed under his breath. “I mean...I dunno. I just had a feelin’ somethin’ was off back at Stinky’s, but I didn’t wanna make assumptions.”

“It was my fault.”

“Oh, Sam-”

“No, it- it was. Legitimately. I wasn’t listenin’ to him, I...God, Flint, I hurt him so  _ badly _ . And I can’t help but feel that if I’d have treated him better, we wouldn’t  _ be _ here right now-

“Hey,” the man said quietly, “C’mere.” He proceeded to wrap his arms around the dog, who hugged him back in return.

“He doesn’t  _ deserve _ this,” Sam murmured. He would have cried had he any tears left to shed. “He doesn’t deserve t’ die ‘cause of  _ my _ fuck-ups.”

“It’s not your fault,” Flint reminded him gently, “There’s no way you could’ve known.”

“I know, I just- I wish I did so many things  _ different _ .”

“I know,” was all he could say. “I know.”

They both went quiet then for a bit. Sam eventually spoke up. “I’m sorry - ya’ said you were comin’ in here t’ tell me somethin’, right?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I was, uh...I was comin’ in because...Grandpa Stinky called me.”

Sam pulled away to give him a raised brow, though his hands were still on the man’s forearms. “What for?”

“‘Parently his granddaughter’s gone missin’ - hasn’t seen ‘er in a week. Wants me t’ check it out.”

“Damn. That actually kinda sucks.”

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s gone very far, though. Got no real reason to.”

“Guess not.” Pause. “...Flint?”

“Yeah, Sam-o?”

“...Thanks.”

The man smiled. “‘Course. It’s what I’m here for. And, uh...listen - whatever happens after all o’ this...I’m here, okay? Don’t- ...don’t let it get this far again, alright? It sucks enough t’ lose Max. I don’t wanna lose both of ya’.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, then was interrupted by a knock on the door. “It’s me!” Papierwaite called on the other side.

“It’s open!” Flint called back.

The door creaked open, and the sorcerer stepped in, with Yog-Soggoth mostly hidden by his robe but otherwise peeking his eyes out somewhat. “Sorry,” Papierwaite said, “I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

“What is it?”

“There is someone here. Uh- asking for you, actually.” He looked right at Sam.

“Me?” Sam questioned. “...Who is it?”

“Someone by the name of ‘Jebidiah.’”

“A moleman,” Yog-Soggoth clarified. “Boxist, no less.”

“...Boxist?” Flint asked, looking at Sam.

“Cult.”

“Ah.”

“What’s he want?” the dog asked, looking back at the sorcerer.

“Just to speak with you,” Papierwaite replied. “In private.”

“Hm. Wonder what he could want.” Though Sam said that, he did have a vague idea or two.

“Well, if it’s in private,” Flint said, dislodging his arms from Sam’s grip and getting up from the bed, “I should probably take off. Um…” He looked at Sam, and said, “I might stop by the diner. There’s some stuff I gotta ask Grandpa Stinky...are you gonna be okay while I’m out?”

“I think I can stay outta trouble long enough for you t’ get back, yeah.”

“Alright. This shouldn’t take long.” With that, he walked past Papierwaite and disappeared into the hall.

“So,” Sam said to the sorcerer, getting to his feet. “Where is he?”

“He is just downstairs. I will send him up.”

Sam merely hummed. Yog-Soggoth hid in the robes, and Papierwaite disappeared from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Only a couple of minutes later, the moleman was peeking his head in. He looked visibly nervous, though Sam could only guess why, given how many things were going on even now. He crossed his arms, and said, “Been a while.”

“Yes, it- it certainly has,” Jebidiah replied, brushing down his robe.

“...Look, if you’re here ‘cause of the Toybox, then I’m sorry. I couldn’t get it for ya’.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know. I-It’s fine, the Toybox was never destined to last forever.”

Okay, so he wasn’t here because of that, which in of itself was enough to surprise Sam a little. “...So you’re here about Max then?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. I suspect you mean in a different sense than what I have in mind.”

“Well, in my sense, I’m referring to the fact that he’s an Elder God now.”

“Then no, that’s not quite why I’m here, either. His becoming an Elder God was also, admittedly, not a huge shock to us.”

“Then...” Sam said, looking confused and shaking his head slightly, “Why  _ are _ you here?”

Jebidiah took a deep breath through his nose, wringing his hands. “Look, I understand that maybe you do not believe in prophecy. Not many do these days. But I need you to  _ listen _ to me. Even if you don’t believe, maybe you’ll find something of use to you.”

The dog considered this for a moment then gave a nod. “Okay. Uh...wanna take a seat for this?”

“I would rather stand, thank you. But perhaps you should.” Sam did so, taking a seat on the bed once again. “You remember what we told you about your partner, yes? Regarding him being the Devil Bunny?”

“Yeah. I remember. What about it?”

“Well, you see, within our Boxist scrolls and parchments, there has always been another half - a counterpart of the Devil Bunny. An entity known as the Eidolon. Neither of us had mentioned it before, because we were not certain if that was who you were, but we believe you may be the one.”

“...Okay.” He sounded mildly doubtful, but he intended on listening still. As the moleman said, even if he was skeptical, he could still find use in it. He leaned forward, his elbows on either thigh and his hands folded, and gave a light shrug. “So, uh - what’s the Eidolon?”

Jebidiah went quiet and appeared thoughtful, as if trying to piece together the information he hand in a way that Sam could understand. “...The Devil Bunny and the Eidolon, as I mentioned, are two halves. Each needed to keep a balance. The Devil Bunny was born of rage while the Eidolon was born of love. One eased the other’s temper, whilst one would protect the other from harm and manipulation.

“However,” the Boxist continued, “They began to be blinded by the very things they represented. The Eidolon was so focused on how much they cared for the Devil Bunny that they began turning away from them and only acting on what  _ they _ thought was best for their relationship. In turn, the Devil Bunny began to feel ignored - which then made them feel anger, causing them to lash out.” Pause. “...I’m guessing by your expression, you have experienced this.”

“I...have,” Sam said. He’d been visibly surprised by how accurate this recollection of this story had seemed. He shook his head, though, then sat up straight again, gesturing to Jebidiah and saying, “Continue.”

“Anyway, as you can imagine, their feud resulted in an imbalance in the world. An imbalance that they had to fix with each other’s aid. Of course, they were reluctant to work together, but yet they were willing to work together if it meant protecting the rest of the world from harm.”

“Okay, so - two people, entities, whatever. They’re not getting along, and that’s bad ‘cause they’re supposed t’ be a harmonic balance.”

“Correct.”

“Alright.  _ Sooo _ ...where does the whole destruction of the Toybox and the Elder God thing come in and all?”

“Ah, yes. The Toybox had to be destroyed in order to keep the world safe. It was too powerful to remain - too many people trying to use it for evil. Except, destroying it did not come without consequence. It-”

“Turned the Devil Bunny into an Elder God, because of the Toybox’s immense power.”

Jebidiah blinked. “That’s...right,” he said, surprised. He tilted his head and raised a brow. “How did you…?”

“Lucky guess,” he replied dismissively, deciding it best not to mention the fact that it came from an Old God and his host.

“...Uh huh. Where was I? Oh yes, the corruption. Well, when the Devil Bunny was corrupted by the Toybox’s power, the Eidolon attempted to reconnect with them, but could not. If they ever hoped to get their beloved back, they had to contact what little of the Devil Bunny’s soul still remained, and pull it back from the surface-”

“Okay, I just- wanna stop you right there,” Sam cut in, making the moleman go quiet. “We’ve already tried ‘pullin’ him out’, as you put it. It didn’t work. Our attempt was blocked by Dark matter-”

“Well, of course it was. The Eidolon couldn’t just pull the Devil Bunny out like one could pull their friend out of a pool. They had to go in and  _ convince _ that part of the Devil Bunny’s soul to free itself from the corruption-” Jebidiah stopped suddenly. “...Wait, did you say ‘Dark matter’?”

“Your reaction’s delayed, but yes. I did.”

The Boxist’s face lit up suddenly, realization clear on his face. “ _ That’s _ why you’ve been taking forever to fix this!”

“ _ Hey _ -” Sam said, somewhat offended.

“Okay, okay, I know that sounded rude, but hear me out: Obediah and I, we hadn’t said anything this whole time, because it’s just expected that the Eidolon can fix this-” He was pacing around the room in his excitement now. “-But I see now! The reason you haven’t been able to fix this is because you don’t have the Chthonic Destroyer!”

“Yeah, I don’t  _ have _ it ‘cause it got destroyed with the Toybox.”

“But it didn’t! I saw it, it’s still in this realm!”

Sam’s eyes widened in shock, and he stood up at once. “What?”

“Before I left- we were planning to come find you, and tell you, but then Skun-ka’pe, he came in and he was demanding that we-”

“ _ Skunkape _ has it!?”

“Yes! He does! But he says he can’t use it, but it’s because it doesn’t belong to him-”

“‘Cause it belongs t’  _ me! _ No one else can use it except me!”

“Right! He’d need your permission at  _ least _ t’ use it. If you got it back-”

“I could save Max,” Sam breathed. “I-I can still save him, there’s still time- Jesus, I gotta go!” At once, the dog started quickly leaving the room, and running down the hall towards the stairs.

“W-Wait!” Jebidiah called, “I haven’t told you about the soul’s ideations-!”

“Save it for after!” Sam called back, feeling the urgency of the situation was far too much for him to continue to stop and listen.

“...It’s kind of important,” the moleman muttered, resigned to the fact that there was no hope in getting Sam to come back and listen.

“Mama Bosco!” the dog called once he was on the elevator to the lab.

“Not right now, Sam!” she called back.

He didn’t even wait for the elevator to finish descending and hopped off while it was still moving and continued his approach. “But I know a way we can save Max!”

She looked over at him and gave him a smile. “That’s fantastic, Sam!” Her smile fell at once and she pointed at her screen - which had Superball on a live call on it - and said, “Tell it to  _ this _ clown.”

“Doctor Mama Bosco,” Superball said calmly, “I understand you’re angry-”

“Angry? Oh no, I am  _ beyond _ pissed. We still have at  _ least _ ten hours left-”

Sam’s initial excitement was replaced with confusion as he looked between the agent on the screen and the scientist. “Whoa, wait, hold on - what’s goin’ on?”

“This guy said he would  _ not _ take any action until the remaining thirty hours. Look at the TV!”

Sam did so, and was met with the sight of Abe - a whole statue, rather than just the head he’d typically been - addressing what appeared to be a whole army of Maimtrons. “...Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“Yeah, that’s what  _ I _ said.”

“Well- okay, hold on.” He turned back to her. “I think there might be a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“Am I misunderstanding that he had people on standby to go through with the termination to do it for him?”

“No, you’re not. I think that’s a fair assessment. What I don’t think, though, is that Superball made the order. I mean, if I’m lookin’ between the government agent doin’ his job, and the egotistical, pitiful jerkward on the TV there, I’d think it safe t’ say that the one breachin’ the deal here is Abe.”

“And you’d be right,” came a voice behind them, making the dog and scientist turn towards the elevator. Just stepping off the platform was Sybil. “Knowing my husband, he likely went ahead and put the wheels in motion regardless of what he was told.”

“Sybil!” Sam said happily, going over to her at once. As soon as he was within her reach, the lady, with a bright smile, got on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck, and he returned the hug - though mindful to be somewhat gentle. “It’s so good t’ see you!”

“It’s good to be back.” She pulled away to look him in the eye. “Sorry I took so long - I didn’t know until before we got on the plane.”

“Hey, don’t apologize.  _ I’m _ sorry Abe dragged ya’ into this-”

“He didn’t  _ drag _ me into anything. I chose to come back. If anything, he probably would have  _ loved _ to keep me behind.”

“I just meant that he’s an idiot for gettin’ involved with this given you’re pregnant. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a laugh, putting her hands on her stomach. “I was gonna wait ‘til  _ after _ they were born, but here I am.”

“Sybil, honey,” Mama Bosco said, hands on her hips and making her and Sam look over. “It’s  _ so _ good to see you and I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but we’re now in a very urgent and time sensitive emergency.”

“Yes, agreed,” Sam said quickly, and went back over to stand beside Mama Bosco and in front of Superball, Sybil following and stopping just behind him. “As I was sayin’, I have a way t’ save Max.”

“All ears, sir,” Superball said.

“Yog was wrong - the Chthonic Destroyer  _ wasn’t _ destroyed-”

“What?” Mama Bosco said, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“There were a couple o’ moleman that were livin’ in the foundation of Max and I’s building. You probably didn’t see if you were busy with this, but he came up t’ my apartment. Told me that apparently  _ Skunkape _ had it and was tryin’ t’ find a way t’ use it. Except he  _ can’t _ ‘cause  _ I’m _ the one who owns it.”

“Wouldn’t he be able t’ use one of the clones? They share your DNA.”

“I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t work like that.  _ I _ went in and faced a reality that  _ I _ had t’ confront - it’s more of a mental thing than a genetic one. In any case, I’m sure he’s already thought of it and I can only assume it hasn’t worked considering he’s goin’ to molemen for help.”

“Then it’s a shame that we don’t have time to go looking all over the city for him, isn’t it?”

“We don’t have to, do we? I mean, Superball-”

The agent shook his head. “Sorry, sir. All of our attempts to locate him have failed. He likely jammed his signal as soon as he was able to after being trapped a second time in the Penal Zone.”

“But that’s the only way we can deal with the Dark matter in Max’s tumour!”

“Face it, Sam,” the scientist said. “We’re just gonna have to find some other way to find it, but in the meantime, we need a way to save Max before he gets a robot right to the chest.”

Sybil decided to speak up then. “You said it’s a tumour, right? I presume you’ve already tried removing it?”

“Well, in a sense, yeah. Had a needle that I tried to jab it with, but it did nothing to help.”

“Is there no way to open up his head and remove it?”

“Aside from the fact we don’t have access to any equipment large enough to perform such a task, even if we did, he’d just try to destroy it.”

Sam had a hand on his chin while they were talking, then said, “What if the solution isn’t t’ fix it from the outside-in, but rather inside-out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe if we find a way to  _ literally _ get inside his head, then maybe we could figure out how to remove the tumour that way without him gettin’ in the way.”

The scientist paused for a moment. “...Y’know, if you were  _ anyone _ else, I’d say that makes no damn sense. But because it’s  _ you _ , it just may actually work.”

“Count me in,” Sybil said.

“Whoa, hang on-” Sam looked at her with a frown and furrowed brows. “There’s no way I’m lettin’ ya’ put yourself in harm’s way-”

“Sam, I came here to help, and dammit, I’m gonna help! ‘Sides, I was a brain surgeon for a time. If that won’t come in handy, I don’t know what will.”

“Have ya’ actually performed a brain surgery before?”

“Well, no. But I have the know-how, and it’s not like this tumour’s small.”

“But you’re-”

“We don’t have time for this,” the scientist told him. “If she thinks she can get on board, then let her.”

The dog let out a small sigh through his nose. “Alright.” He looked back at Sybil again. “But you be careful, okay? We’re not tryin’ t’ get anyone else hurt in the process.”

“When have I ever not been careful?” the lady asked with a smile, crossing her arms.

“Well, there was that time y-”

“Don’t answer that.”

“Maybe you should get Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth in on this, too,” Mama Bosco suggested. “They know more about this Dark matter than any of us would, I’d assume.”

“That’s a good point,” Sam replied. “Speakin’ of Dark matter - can we make sure we got an eye out on anything t’ do with Skunkape? Him, his goons, his ship, any of that?”

“I can certainly see to that,” Superball said.

“Perfect. I’ll get Papierwaite down here, and together we can work out some sort of plan.”

. . .

“Have ye found my granddaughter yet?” Grandpa Stinky asked before Flint even took a full step through the diner’s door.

Flint figured he probably already knew the answer, given how little time had passed since the old man had called, but still the detective shook his head. “Not even a clue.”

“Then why are ye here?”

“I want t’ help you find her, a hundred percent. I just need t’ know a few things first.”

“Like  _ what? _ Ye know what she looks like, ain’t that enough? Or do ye need a detailed description of her  _ schedule _ , too?”

“Actually, the questions I have aren’t even about her.” Before Grandpa Stinky could get another word in, Flint put his hands on the counter and said, “What do you have to do with these ‘Rusalkas’?”

The old man merely stared at him for a long few moments. “...I don’t know what yer talkin’ aboot-”

“Yes,” he interrupted, digging out the book from his back pocket and dumping it onto the counter. “You do.”

“What the hell!?” he exclaimed, swiping the journal and flipping through it’s pages, eventually closing it shut with one hand and shaking it in Flint’s face. “How did ye get this!?”

“Just answer my question.”

“And what do ye even benefit from knowin’ that, huh?”

The detective gave a shrug. “I dunno. You tell me. For all I know, it could be totally useless. And if it is, there shouldn’t be much risk in tellin’ me.”

Grandpa Stinky eyed him for a long moment before his gaze lowered. He didn’t actually seem as angry as he initially seemed to be. Nor did he seem like he was reluctant or conflicted. He looked as if he was expecting this to some degree - like he knew it would maybe come up one day. In any case, he seemed to know there was no point in hiding whatever it was that he was hiding. “...It’s just one,” he clarified. “Ye said ‘Rusalkas’, but it’s only ever been one.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” He stopped leaning on the counter and straightened his back. “What does it have t’ do with you, though?”

“Used t’ be a sailor, as ye knew. Accidentally came by ‘er while Ah was out and decided t’ bring ‘er back with me. Ah was warned that they tended t’ act a li’l  _ feisty _ towards men - humans, period, but men especially - but Ah never particularly gave a shite. Could never really blame her for it, frankly.”

As Flint listened to him, his brows began to furrow, puzzled. “Wait, hang on,” he said, the wheels in his head turning. “Are you saying...your granddaughter’s a...?”

“The hell do ye think,” the old man muttered.

Realization dawned on the detective’s face then, the pieces finally fitting themselves together. “She isn’t your granddaughter,” he guessed.

“She  _ is _ ,” he snapped. “Maybe not by blood, but she’s my granddaughter t’  _ me _ .”

“Right. Apologies. But- why granddaughter? Wouldn’t it make more sense t’ say she was your daughter instead?”

“Don’t be stupid. No one would buy it. Maybe for the first decade or so, but any longer than  _ that _ -”

“Yeah. I understand.” It made sense - if he kept looking older, but she still looked young, it probably would raise a brow or two. “So she wants t’ kill you because it’s, for lack of a better term, in her nature?”

“It ain’t the only reason,” he said, “But it certainly is one.”

Flint hummed, his expression thoughtful. “...I’ll try t’ find her,” he finally said. “And I’ll get back to ya’ once I find somethin’. Thank you for sharing this with me.” The old man merely grunted, and the detective decided to take off to continue his new case.

Not so long after he’d left, did Grandpa Stinky hear the sound of buzzing coming from the kitchen. He, however, did not react or budge, not even as the door swung open behind him, his granddaughter approaching him with an alien weapon in hand. “Impeccable timin’,” he commented, moments before she struck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> & with that we are now leaving the lull between 'beyond the alley of the dolls' & entering into 'the city that dares not sleep!!'  
> please stay tuned for the final act of 'another way' uvu


	19. Last Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the looming threat of Abe taking Max's life, Sam, Sybil, Papierwaite and Mama Bosco must make one last effort to save Max before it's REALLY too late.

“So here’s what we know,” Mama Bosco said, the scan of Max pulled up on the screen with her, Sam, Papierwaite and Sybil standing in front of it. “The tumour is located specifically near the left temple, likely closer to the middle frontal gyrus. It is secreting Dark matter as we speak, meaning any attempts to reverse its effects will be null. It can definitely be destroyed with the Chthonic Destroyer, but Skun-ka’pe has it, and no one knows where he is. The only other hope we have is to get inside and remove it that way.”

Sybil leaned her head towards Sam and muttered, “You guys really  _ have _ been busy while I was gone, huh.” The dog merely shrugged in response, putting his hands in his pockets.

“How are we expected to remove it without causing further harm?” Yog-Soggoth asked, seemingly putting his crab-like claw on his chin. “After all, there is a risk removing it will only make the spreading of the Dark matter go faster - not even accounting for all the other risks there could be in trying to remove it.”

“I’m glad you asked, ‘cause thankfully, I took that into consideration. There are two potential ways to handle that - either Papierwaite can find a way to contain the Dark matter and keep it from leaking,  _ or _ we use electricity to try and either halt its activity or at least slow it. In any case, it should be able to be removed by Sybil. Normal tools should be fine, but I’ll make sure to provide you with laser tools just in case.”

“And anaesthetic,” Sybil reminded. “Monster or no, I’m sure he’d better appreciate  _ not _ getting a shooting pain in his head.”

“I have got some on standby, yes. I’m not really sure how well it’ll work given his case, but at least you have it.”

“This all sounds very good so far,” Papierwaite said, “But, um - how are we getting  _ in _ his head, exactly?”

“Sam’s in charge of that. Though, uh- Sam?”

“Yeah, doc?” the dog responded.

“Just to make sure I...got everything right - you said window protectors, duct tape, a cooler for your engine, and, uh...a literal  _ ton _ of cornmeal?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you need cornmeal for?” Sybil asked, looking at him with a mix of confusion and disgust at the amount he was requesting.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think I wanna see, but okay.”

“Well, I’m at least confident that you know what you’re doing,” the scientist said. “Sybil, I’ll get you set up with the medical equipment, and Papierwaite, you make any preparations you feel are necessary. Everyone be ready in the next fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam replied, then began to head out of the lab.

“...Okay, seriously though-” Sybil looked at Mama Bosco, “Two- _ thousand _ pounds of cornmeal?”

“I don’t question his methods,” she replied tiredly, “I just indulge them. I’ll get the bag set up for you. There’s gonna be walkie talkies for each of you in there as well - make sure Sam gets one.”

“Sure thing.”

The scientist went to the table where she’d laid out a lot of the medical equipment - which she used the term very loosely, given that most of these items weren’t medical tools at all. However, it was agreed between her and Sybil that a normal-sized scalpel wouldn’t cut it (both literally and figuratively), and so some improvisation was necessary. As she grabbed the large bag and placed it on the table next to the equipment, her attention was caught by a low whimper, making her look over to see ‘Sammy’ looking at her.

“No, hon, you gotta sit this one out. You’re still hurt.” The dog clone merely looked down, disheartened. “I know you still feel bad about what happened, but it’s not your fault.” She reached over and placed a hand on his head, carefully ruffling the fur there. “Just rest. We’ve got this.” She removed her hand to return to what she was doing, and added under her breath, “Failure’s not a luxury we can afford anymore. We  _ have _ to get this.”

. . .

The shrine that had once stood in the underground of the apartment building had now been completely demolished, leaving nothing but splinters of wood and bent metal snapped in half. And yet Obediah still remained peacefully in his spot with his gaze lowered. Wiley emerged from the broken wall that had once hidden the astral projector (and where Skun-ka’pe had brutally taken Max’s brain from him) and announced, “He wasn’t hiding anywhere in there, sir!”

“He’s not over here, either!” Everett called from the spot where the entrance to the makeshift Penal Zone.

“He did not disappear into thin air,” the General said patiently. “He must have gone  _ somewhere _ .”

“There’s a tunnel over here!” Rory shouted from across the underground.

“Where does it lead?” After asking that, Skun-ka’pe looked at the moleman out of the corner of his eye. Obediah did not react.

“To the sewers. He must have ran off before we got here.”

“So he did. I guess he’s as much of a coward as the modern moleman.”

“He is no coward,” Obediah defended. “In fact, he is braver than even I.”

“We shall see about that.” He turned to his crew and yelled, “Boys, find him! Scout every part of the city if you must, just find him!”

“Is finding him just to kill him really worth  _ all _ of this trouble?” the Boxist questioned.

The General responded by turning and pointing at him. “You keep your mouth shut. Do not question me.”

“No, you are right. There is no way you are doing this just out of pettiness and a need to assert your superiority. You are scared of the interruptions he could cause to your plans-”

“I said  _ shut it _ . Before I tear your tongue out.”

“Be my guest.”

The space gorilla gave an annoyed growl. “Irwin, you stay and watch this  _ fool _ . Make sure he doesn’t-” He paused, glancing around the area. “...Wait, where’s Irwin?”

“Ugh,” Tiro groaned. “He probably went back to the ship t’ keep an eye on that Stinky girl. I’ll go get him.”

As the space gorilla was passing by Skun-ka’pe, the General put a hand on his arm. “Tread carefully,” he instructed. “Do not give away that you are there.”

Tiro blinked, seeming surprised. “Well, of course, sir, but- why specifically say this now?”

“I just have a...nevermind, actually.” He patted the younger gorilla’s arm and said, “Be quick.”

Although still puzzled by the order, Tiro nodded, and headed off.

. . .

“You certainly took your time,” Sammun-Mak commented as soon as Stinky began approaching his tank.

“I took as much time as I needed,” she replied, and casually dumped the brain that once belonged to her so-called ‘grandfather’ right into the tank, making the other recoil in disgust.

“ _ Ugh! _ Have you no  _ decency!? _ ”

“Shut it. This’ll only take a few minutes.” The child king’s brain merely  _ humphed _ . As she walked back onto the lower deck and passed by Grandpa Stinky’s currently lifeless body, she asked, “How long until they get back?”

“No clue. We didn’t even think they would be  _ this _ long. Either he is getting what he wants or he is still searching for someone who can. I wouldn’t dawdle, in any case.”

“Duly noted.” 

She was moving toward the glass cage containing the Sam clone that she’d earlier protected from Skun-ka’pe’s wrath. When she did, she brought her hand over to the keypad, and typed in the code that Irwin had typed in earlier. The cage opened up at once. The dog clone was sitting, and looked up at her with wide, innocent-looking eyes. 

“Sorry to do this to you, fido,” she said, “But I’ve got a reputation to keep and a criminal record to avoid.”

“I don’t think so,” came a growled voice from behind her, making her turn around just in time to see a fist being swung at her, and quickly ducking underneath the assaulter’s arm to keep herself from getting trapped between him and the cage. She turned around as he did, and she saw that it was Irwin - the space gorilla that had been suspicious of her for quite a bit now.

“What the  _ hell? _ ” She glanced angrily at Sammun-Mak, “You didn’t  _ warn _ me that he came in here!?”

“We didn’t sense him!” he replied defensively, “It is not as if though he is an  _ intruder! _ ”

“I knew you were up t’ somethin’,” Irwin started saying. “I  _ knew _ you couldn’t be trusted. You’re betraying Skun-ka’pe,  _ both _ of you-”

“No,” Stinky said, “We’re not betraying him. That would imply that there was any trust to begin with. And that couldn’t be far from the truth.”

“Oh, potato, po-tah-to. It’s still stabbing him in the back.”

“This can be easy. You could just let me do what I came to do and let me go. You could forget that you saw anything.”

“Nu-uh, lady. As soon as I tell Skun-ka’pe what you did, you’re  _ dead _ .”

She merely stared at him for a long moment then breathed a sigh. “Alright, kid,” she said to Sammun-Mak, “Change of plans.” 

With that, she swiftly took out the tool she had stolen from the ship, and before Irwin could react, she jabbed it right at his head. After a lingering moment, he fell back, the top of his head opening up not too unlike a tin can upon hitting the floor.

“We’re using this guy instead,” she concluded.

“Is that entirely wise?” the brain inquired. “If you place  _ him _ in the old man’s head, he may still go and spill the truth.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to keep him contained in a place where he won’t be found until Skun-ka’pe’s dead. After that, he could be dismissed as a crazy, raving old man. Got a place to keep him?”

“Actually, we do. By me on the upper deck, there’s an incinerator of sorts. We could keep him contained in there for the time being.”

“Don’t scorch him - I still need him, quote-on-quote, ‘alive’.”

“We won’t. But what about vice versa?”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I have the  _ perfect _ end in mind for that bastard.” She looked over at the open cage, where the dog clone was still sitting, though now fearful by what just occurred in front of him. “Consider it your lucky day,” she told him, stepping over the space gorilla’s body to shut the cage again.

Unbeknownst to her, Tiro had been standing just outside the ship’s entrance when she had seemingly murdered his fellow crew member. His eyes were wide, hand over his mouth to keep himself from making a sound - but that expression soon turned to rage, and he turned and fled before she could see him. He had to tell General Skun-ka’pe about this at  _ once _ .

. . .

Sybil and Papierwaite sat in the back of the DeSoto - which now had its roof placed back on - while Sam drove, each of them holding onto the handle above the car doors, the bag sitting on the floor between them. The vehicle, frankly, looked as if it was in the middle of some sort of project - several spaces on it had been duct-taped shut and the interior of each window now had a protector (or, more appropriately, a seal) except for Sam’s, who still needed his to be able to open.

The sorcerer glanced over at Sybil. “...Girl or boy?”

She looked over at him quickly, surprised by the sudden small talk, and probably wouldn’t have even guessed that he was speaking to her if not for the specific question. “Boy,” she replied.

“That is nice! Any names in mind?”

“Well, I _ was _ considering AJ - Abraham Jr. - but I might have to seriously reconsider after tonight.”

“Ah, yes. I can certainly see why.”

“Maybe I should call him John, instead. Or Andrew. Nah, James is better than Andrew-”

“Are you gonna name your son after a  _ different _ president just t’ piss your husband off?” Sam asked, looking in the rearview mirror at her. “‘Cause if you’re gonna do that, at least pick somethin’ sensible. It’s still your kid we’re talkin’ about.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, raising a brow. “And what would you consider ‘sensible’?”

“I dunno. George, maybe? Could call ‘im Georgie.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“As pleasant as this conversation is,” Yog-Soggoth spoke up, “I have to question where it is you are going, Sam.”

“I’m just tryin’ t’ find him…”

“Him? Wait - you’re not looking for Max-”

“I’m doin’ exactly that. Gotta lure him in if he’s gonna take the bait.”

“Bait? Is this where your request for cornmeal comes in?” Sybil asked doubtfully, clutching the handle a little tighter.

“Maybe. Wait, hang on.” He could hear the faint sound of stomping, and slowed to a stop and glanced down one road to see the beast that was Max on the opposite side. “Bingo.” With that, he turned down that street and began to head right towards him.

“Er, just a moment, Monsieur Barkley,” Papierwaite said, beginning to feel anxious as they drove  _ towards _ the danger, “ _ How _ are we getting inside of him, again?”

“Just wait and see.” 

When he began nearing the amphibian-like creature, he eventually slowed to a halt, rolled down his window, leaned his head out, put his fingers in his mouth and blew a high-pitched whistle. At once, some of the spores nearby seemed to stop and turn to look at the DeSoto, but not enough for his liking.

“Hey!” he shouted, and sounded the horn, letting it blare loudly. “ _ Maa-aax! _ ”

The beast gave a low growl that rumbled through the ground and turned to look towards the car with those bright pink eyes of his. All of the spores were now looking in his direction as well, even appearing like they were tilting slightly like one would tilt their head.

“Hey big fella!” he said cheerfully, as if he was giving a casual greeting to an old friend rather than trying to get a giant monster’s attention. “I got a special surprise for ya’!”

The spores chattered for a moment, before some began to slowly approach Sam. The dog promptly switched the car gear into reverse and began lightly tapping the pedal, making the car back up some to keep his distance.

“That’s it - c’mon!” He honked the horn again. “Come this way!”

Max finally gave into Sam’s urging, and began to take steps towards him, which then seemed to prompt the spores to approach faster, their chattering sounding more exuberant. 

Getting the result he was hoping for, Sam brought his head back in and rolled up the window. “Hang on, everyone,” he said, right before pressing on the gas pedal hard. The DeSoto began backing up rapidly, the wheels squealing for a moment before he turned the steering sharply, turning the whole car around. He switched the gear back to drive, and the wheels gave another short squeal as he sped down the street, Max’s footsteps making the ground tremble as he pursued.

His passengers certainly did as he’d instructed, and were clutching onto whatever they could for dear life. “Sam, you  _ better _ know what you’re doing!” Sybil shouted over the sound of the creature’s footsteps and loud rev of the engine.

“I do, just trust me!” He now had one hand on the wheel while he was fumbling with the window protector that had been lying in the passenger seat beside him, trying to get it to click into place. “Which turn, which turn,” he muttered under his breath, then said, “This turn-” He removed his hand from the window protector and turned the wheel sharply towards the right, using the momentum to shoulder the protector into place.

“Ugh, that  _ stench- _ ” Yog-Soggoth started complaining.

Papierwaite, however, was gripping onto the passenger seat in front of him to get a better look out of the windshield. “What in the name of the Gods is  _ that? _ ”

The sight he was referring to was the strange, brown concoction that filled a large crack in the road that was caused by Max, which was just up ahead of the road. There was also what appeared to be a large pipe sticking out of it.

“That, Monsieur Papierwaite, would be my bait.”

There was a strong smell making its way into the car, and Sybil sniffed. “...Vegetable oil? Wait, did you make a friggin’  _ corndog mix? _ ”

“Brace yourselves, everyone!” Sam warned, completely ignoring the question.

“Oh my God, it  _ is _ corndog mix,” Sybil murmured, pressing her fingers to her temple in disbelief. Moments after she said that, the DeSoto had been driven right over the pipe and into the weird concoction.

“...This plan is terrible,” the Old God said.

Sam looked behind him - mostly to look out the back windshield to make sure the spores and Max were still following - and said, “Actually, this is probably the safest plan I could offer.”

“Okay, but,” Papierwaite said, “What  _ is _ the plan?”

“Well, Max really likes corndogs - ate two whole packages of them then hibernated for the rest of the winter once - and I figured the safest way inside was through his mouth-”

“Oh my God,” Sybil put her hands in her face, “We’re gonna be  _ eaten _ by  _ Max _ .”

“An appropriate reaction, really.” His ears perked forward. “Alright, get ready, things are about to get a li’l hot in here.”

The spores - who had been able to keep up with the car a lot faster than Max himself - could be heard chattering outside of the car, seeming excited by the sight and smell, and decided to dive right in. Almost immediately, the interior of the car began to heat up, and the mix was quickly being fried.

“Jeez, they’re boiling this thing faster than my old man boils hot dogs on a summer’s day.”

“Your dad  _ boils _ hot dogs?” Sybil questioned.

“He insists they’re better that way.”

“...Are they?”

“No, not at-  _ A- _ ” He’d yelped in surprise - and the other passengers exclaimed as well - at the car suddenly being lifted up and tilted backwards, making him clutch on the wheel instinctively. As the car was being turned, he looked out the front windshield, and was met with the intrigued gaze of the amphibian-like beast, who sniffed at the DeSoto. “C’mon, li’l buddy,” he murmured, “It’s all yours.” Max opened his mouth- 

“I can’t look,” Sybil said, covering her eyes to try and spare her stomach.

. . .

“Sybil,” Sam said after a few minutes had passed. “You can open your eyes now.”

“Uh-uh. I am  _ not _ interested in looking at Max’s-” She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder by Papierwaite, which had instinctively made her remove her hands to look at him, only to accidentally look out the window instead. “...Oh,” she said, pleasantly surprised.

Instead of the interior being the disgusting sight of an esophagus, it was instead a sort of green, translucent chute instead, with what almost looked like walls just beyond it. It was a structure rather than actual anatomy, which was a  _ lot _ easier on the stomach. The vehicle had ended up being wedged in it, and thus was stuck.

“Weird,” Sam murmured, looking around at the area they’d found themselves in. “Why’s it look like this?”

“Likely a psychic projection,” Papierwaite guessed. “Though why he would choose to project  _ this _ in such a way, of all things, I am not quite certain…”

“Well, it looks like we gotta start making our way up,” Sybil said. She zipped open the bag, and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a chef’s knife and holding it out beside the dog. “Sam, get us outta here.”

Although typically opposed to blatantly abusing the DeSoto, he could see reason in it - with the way the car was wedged, it was impossible to get out of any of the doors. So he took the knife and began jabbing at the windshield repeatedly with it until it broke. After it did, he handed her back the knife and said, “Give me the bag, I’ll get that out first.”

She did so, and after pushing out the other pieces of the windshield, he carefully climbed out onto the hood of the car and set the bag down beside him before extending his hand back for Sybil. As he helped her out of the car, she said, “Whoa, look.”

He followed her gaze, and was met with the sight of the bag slowly ascending up the chute. “Well, that’s a li’l strange.”

“But convenient,” Papierwaite, who’d pulled up to the front seat, added. He then put a hand on the frame of the windshield, and pushed himself forward. Surely enough, he ended up levitating, and grabbed the handle of the bag before pushing himself upwards again using the chute.

The dog and lady watched him, the former appearing a little more uncertain at first. He looked over at Sybil and asked, “You up for this?”

Before she could reply, there was a loud sound that reverberated through the chute - almost sounding like someone clearing their throat - and the car shook momentarily. “Don’t have much of a choice,” she decided, and copied Papierwaite’s action and began sending herself up.

Sam was about to do the same, but then paused, and turned his attention back to the interior of the car. He then knelt down and reached in, and plucked Carol the scanner out. If he was about to lose the DeSoto, he could at least spare her. Besides, maybe she could come in handy. After tucking her under his arm, he followed the others.

“Sam, come check this out!” he heard Sybil call from above. He pushed himself up again, as to move a little faster, before seeing an entrance up ahead. As soon as he was within range, he grabbed the edge of it, and used it to pull himself into what appeared to be a sort of living room, with a couch, a television and various shelves.

“Pretty cushy,” the dog commented.

“Not the living room,” the lady replied. “Well- okay, yeah, you’re right. It’s a pretty good set-up. But came take a look at  _ this _ .”

He went over towards her, and- “Holy crap, that thing is  _ massive _ .”

“We already knew it would be.”

“I know, but- God, it looks terrible up close.”

The tumour had not at all been hard to miss. It was giant and pulsing, and was completely obstructing the wooden planks that made up the walls of this apparent headspace, causing the wall around it to look as if the thing had busted it right open - the wood was splintered and bending backwards, threatening to snap them if it grew any larger. On top of that, it was clearly a darker colour than what could’ve been considered remotely healthy.

“Indeed it does,” Sybil agreed. “Better get right to work, then.”

As she went to grab the bag from Papierwaite, a spore suddenly flew up the chute, and began yelling, “Intruder! Intruder in the brain!” This was the first time Sam had heard one of those things say anything coherent, and its speech sounded choppy, as if someone had taken bits of Max’s voice and put them together to try and form a proper sentence.

“Relax, Max,” Sam said in an attempt to reason with it. “We’re here t’ try and help you, alright?”

“Intruder in the brain! Intruder!” it simply repeated.

“I think you’re a li’l confused, but that’s okay. It’s probably hard t’ think straight with this thing screwin’ up your head. Not that you ever thought straight, to be fair.”

“There is no point in attempting to communicate with it, Sam,” Yog-Soggoth said flatly, making Sam look over. “The brain capacity of spores is no more than that of an ant. All it understands is how to feed and defend its host, and that’s it.”

“Besides,” Sybil said, tossing a walkie talkie at him, which he caught. “It’s kinda sad watching you talk to it.”

Sam frowned, furrowing his brows. “Well excuse me for tryin’. ‘Sides, shouldn’t we be a li’l worried it’s here?”

“It’s just one,” the creature explained. “As long as we keep an eye on it, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

“Tell Mama Bosco that we’re in,” the lady said. “Papierwaite, could you come over here, please?”

“Of course, miss.”

While they went to start getting to work on the tumour, Sam decided to switch on the device. Mama Bosco’s voice came through at once. “ _ Everything okay there? _ ”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” the dog replied. “We’re inside the head and we’ve got a visual on the tumour. Sybil and Papierwaite are gettin’ ready t’ work on it as we speak.”

“ _ That’s great! Hopefully we can make some swift progress. _ ” As she spoke, Sam’s gaze wandered, and he ended up noticing root-like markings stemming from the tumour. “ _ Abe’s sent that army after him, and already it looks like Max is about to take out the first one that’s come after him. _ ” With a puzzled look, he allowed his eyes to trail along the length of the roots - and blinked upon seeing that they were apparently covering a white door with golden floral patterns, and tilted his head at it. “ _ There’s still plenty more behind it, of course. I’ll keep you updated in case anything starts going south, okay, Sam? _ ” Pause. “ _...Sam? _ ”

“Uh-” he shook his head. “Yeah, sounds good. Definitely do that.”

“ _ Keep in touch. _ ”

“Will do.” 

After the crackle of the walkie cut out, he attached it to his belt, then looked back at the door. He wouldn’t have thought it peculiar if not for the fact that it seemed like these roots were purposely attempting to block it, as if trying to keep others out. Or, rather, keep something locked inside. And for some reason, his mind decided to wander back to Jebidiah’s story - about the Eidolon having to take to what remained of the Devil Bunny or whatever. This place seemed to be built as if it was meant for some sort of person, and while that had seemed odd at first, it made a little more sense if there was, maybe, the possibility of there  _ actually _ being someone in there. And if the Dark matter had been blocking them from bringing Max back out, as Yog-Soggoth had said, then-

His thought process was interrupted by the knife he’d used to break the windshield suddenly flinging towards him, becoming lodged in the floor just in front of his feet.

“ _ Jesus- _ ” he said, looking over at the lady and sorcerer. “What happened there?”

“We, uh...seem to have a bit of an issue here,” Sybil said.

The dog’s shoulders slumped. “What  _ now? _ ”

“There’s a bit of an electrical current going through the tumour right now, it seems. And by a bit, I mean a  _ lot _ . The voltage is too high for us to operate.”

“So we’re gonna have t’ go with the ‘electroshock’ idea after all, huh.”

“Not necessarily. We might be able to shut it off from the inside. The medulla oblongata acts as a sort of ‘circuit breaker’ for the brain - and given the nature of Max’s insides, it could be as simple as flipping a switch in here. If you could shut it off, we should be able to operate. As for where it could be in here…”

Sam looked towards the door he’d been staring at just moments ago. “...Ya’ think it’d be safe t’ guess that it could be behind the conveniently barred door there?”

She merely shrugged. “Can’t do any harm in looking. If you can open it, that is.”

“Only one way t’ find out.” 

The dog proceeded to reach for the gold handle - and as soon as even his paw pads brushed the metal, his vision suddenly went white, making him yelp in pain and shut his eyes tight. Once it appeared dark behind his eyelids again, he blinked several times to try and clear the colours from his vision. “Well, that sucked,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. “Did anyone else get that or was that just- me…”

When he’d looked around, he no longer found himself in the living room setting in front of the door and tumour, but what instead appeared to be a kitchen.

“...Guys?” No response. He frowned, and - seeing as he still had Carol with him - set down the scanner on the counter and removed the walkie talkie from his belt, and spoke into it. “Is everyone okay?”

“ _ Fine, _ ” Papierwaite replied, though he sounded annoyed. “ _ Not like I wanted to keep my vision for the next decade or anything. _ ”

“ _ I’m good here, too, _ ” Sybil said.

“Where are you guys?”

“ _ I’m not sure. Seems like there’s a- a panel? I don’t know what it’s really for. _ ”

“ _ I am in some sort of gaming room, _ ” the sorcerer said.

“ _ What happened, anyway? _ ”

“ _ It seems that whatever was in that room, Max did not wish for us to enter and see it, _ ” Yog-Soggoth explained, and added in a murmur, “ _ They’re always so fussy at this age… _ ”

“Great,” Sam muttered. “Goin’ on a scavenger hunt inside my own friend’s brain. Just what I needed.”

“ _ Well, if we can’t find a way to cut out the power from the inside, we’re gonna have to do it from the outside, _ ” Sybil said.

“And we’re gonna get that much power from where, exactly? I mean, we’re talkin’ an eighty foot amphibiagomorph with psychic powers.”

She paused for a moment, seemingly thinking. “ _...The electric plant. Down in Battery Park. You know that? _ ”

He gave a light shrug. “Sure. Alright. How do we get ‘im down there? I can’t exactly get the DeSoto back out t’ lure him like I just did.”

“ _ We can figure something out, I’m sure. Maybe if you came up and took a look at what I’m seeing? _ ”

“Papierwaite, Yog, can ya’ hang tight for a few?”

“ _ Yes, we will be fine, _ ” Papierwaite replied. “ _ Go to her first. _ ”

“Alright. Nobody touch anything ‘til I-” He cut himself upon hearing a creaking noise, and looked up just in time to yelp in surprise and quickly grabbed Carol with his free hand and backed up as the DeSoto suddenly came crashing into the kitchen.

“ _ Sam? _ ” Sybil said, sounding worried, “ _ Are you okay? _ ”

“Yeah, fine. Just nearly got crushed by my own car.”

“ _ Must be the stomach, _ ” the Old God said.

“Whatever. Look, just wait up, Sybil, okay? I’ll find ya’.”

“ _ Try to hurry, Sam. _ ”

  
As soon as he put the walkie talkie away, he heard what sounded like Max’s giggling stuck on a short loop, and turned to shoot a glare at the spore that must have followed him down. “Oh,  _ can it _ , ya’ bonehead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> & we're BACK folks!!! thank you for your patience, & hope u enjoyed the first chapter to the fifth & final act of another way!! chapter 20 will be out july 15th, so keep an eye out for that!!


	20. Search #4: Arms, Legs, Brain and- Whoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and co. explore Max's body - which leads them to some pretty shocking moments and discoveries.

It had taken a bit of exploring, but eventually Sam accidentally - but thankfully - found himself in the room Sybil was in. It seemed to be a sort of exercise room - though, the aesthetic was sort of ruined by the fact that there was a large panel at the farthest wall in the room.

“Found ya’,” Sam said as he entered the room from the chute, making the lady turn around.

“Perfect. Come take a look at this.”

The dog walked over to where she was, stopping right in front of the panel. He looked over it, and it seemed to just be a bunch of random buttons and circuit boards. “...What do ya’ think it is?”

“I think it’s some sort of override, but I can’t get it to work. Every time I press a button, it just buzzes. Watch.” She proceeded to press a button, and indeed it buzzed as if she’d pressed something wrong.

Sam hummed, furrowing his brow. “Weird. How’re we supposed t’ get it t’ work, then?”

“I’m not sure. But with both of us here, we should be able to figure it out.”

“Right.” He continued to look over it carefully, then - upon noticing some of the circuit board lines moving downward - lowered his gaze to see a sort of gap. Tilting his head, he got onto his hands and knees and looked into it. “Well, here’s your first issue - there’s wires here, but they ain’t connected t’ anything.”

Sybil tried to lean to one side to see to no avail. It was hard to really see anything when she couldn’t even crouch down, so she decided to take his word for it. “Well, what do you think they’re supposed to be connected to?”

The dog stood up, and turned from the panel to the rest of the room, eyeing the equipment. He scanned it over carefully, then perked his ears upon noticing there were small gaps on some of the equipment as well. He approached an exercise bike, and crouched down to get a closer look. “Definitely looks like these can be plugged in...the cords under there aren’t anywhere near long enough, though.”

“Then maybe try to find an extension cord?”

“Would there just be an extension cord lyin’ around in this place?”

“We can only look. Here, why don’t you go look around and see what you can find, and I’ll try to see what’s up with this panel.”

“Sounds like a plan.” With that, he turned to the nearest chute and went down it, going off to explore once again.

. . .

While exploring for some sort of place that could possibly have an extension cord, Sam ended up stumbling upon a room with a pool table and a pinball machine, among other things that were quite clearly games. He could see Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth standing on what looked to be a mat for a sort of twisted version of Twister, and - not so oddly enough - they were bickering.

“You’re not  _ listening _ to me, Anton-”

“I  _ was _ listening, you said ‘left foot, brass knuckles-’”

“No, I did not!”

“What seems t’ be the problem?” Sam inquired, making both of them look over quickly.

“Ah, Sam!” the sorcerer said. “You found Sybil already, yes?”

“I have. I was tryin’ t’ find somethin’ t’ help her with an override in the room she’s in, but seems like you two are havin’ a bit of trouble yourselves.”

“Papierwaite and I have figured out that the contraption of entertainment over there-” The creature gestured to the arcade cabinet, “-might be forming impulses of a series of neurotransmitters.”

“...Meaning?”

“Meaning if we can figure it out, we could be able to control some of Max’s appendages, which could assist us in our objective of trying to short out the electricity in that tumour.”

“Only problem is,” Papierwaite said, putting his hands on his hips with an unimpressed frown, “Yog here has been reading the instructions all  _ wrong _ .”

“I have not!” Yog-Soggoth immediately argued, “I’ve been reading them correctly. It’s not  _ my _ fault if-”

“Alright, okay, that’s enough,” Sam interrupted, shaking his head. He then looked at the Old God and asked, “Are ya’ readin’ it from all the way over here?”

“I’m certainly not  _ detaching _ myself from my host to do it.”

“Well then, maybe you  _ are _ readin’ it wrong.”

“I have multiple eyes, all of which have exceptional vision. I can see the screen from here and I am reading what it is showing. I know that I’m not reading it wrong.”

Sam sighed in annoyance. “Here, let me try. You do your thing, and I’ll read ‘em out.” 

The man nodded, and Sam set the scanner on the pool table, then went to stand in front of the arcade machine. He pressed a button, and the screen rapidly cycled through a bunch of symbols before finally landing on two distinct ones.

The dog simply read them out: “Left hand, bomb.” He turned to look at Papierwaite, and he had his left hand on the black bomb symbol on the mat. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Read another,” Yog-Soggoth said knowingly. “You’ll see.”

He shrugged and muttered “Whatever,” then turned back to the arcade machine and pressed the button again. The symbols that appeared were a right foot, and a pan with bacon in it. “ **Left hand, bomb.** ”

There was a pause from the sorcerer. “...My left hand’s already on the bomb.”

“No, that’s not what I said. I said  **left hand, bomb.** ”

“Yes, I heard you, and I am telling you, my  _ left hand _ is  _ already _ on the  _ bomb _ .”

“How the hell are ya’ mishearin’ me that badly?”

“Actually, now that I’m the one listening,” Yog-Soggoth said with a furrowed brow, “I don’t think it’s Papierwaite after all.”

“I was  _ telling _ you that!” Papierwaite said, irritated.

“Wait, are you sayin’  _ you _ heard me say somethin’ else too?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” the creature confirmed. “Max must be taking advantage of the ventriloquist abilities that Charlie possessed…”

“By screwin’ up the instructions? Are you kiddin’ me?”

“Obviously he doesn’t want us gaining any sort of control of him.”

“Ugh.” He put his hands on his hips and shook his head, murmuring, “Max always was a li’l cheater when it came t’ Carbomb. ‘Course it’s not different here.”

After he’d said that, a spore decided to float on in just to say in its own, choppy way, “I don’t cheat, you’re just bad.”

“Oh, shut up-”

“Don’t waste your time confronting it,” Yog-Soggoth interjected, “We must figure out a way around this. If neither of us can instruct Papierwaite without Max’s interference, then what could we do?”

Sam put a hand on his chin in thought, his gaze wandering then eventually falling on the pool table - and snapped his fingers with a pleased smile at once. “We could use Carol!”

“Who?” Papierwaite asked.

“The scanner over there! She just speaks in beeps, so she can’t have her words mixed up-”

“I do not use this word often, as it is childish and lacks any sort of eloquence,” the Old God said, “But that’s stupid.” The dog’s shoulders slumped, a hurt frown appearing on his expression. “It’s a scanner. We’re not doing that.” Sam lowered his head.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Papierwaite scolded, “You have gone and hurt his feelings.”

“I’m not apologizing for being right. And besides, I have a better idea - when I had deliberately said  _ right hand, flail _ before you arrived, Papierwaite  _ insisted _ it had been left foot, brass knuckles.”

“And when I’d said right foot, bacon,” Sam murmured thoughtfully, “It came out left hand, bomb…”

“There must be a way we can trick the ventriloquism into making us say the correct statement. It doesn’t seem to be any more complex than simply reversing the order.”

“Well, switching up the directions and whether it’s a hand or a foot is straightforward enough, but how am I supposed t’ figure out what the opposite of the symbols are?”

“You already know what two translate to, so depending on how this system works you either have four others to figure out or only two - the latter being if it’s one of those ‘vice versa’ systems.”

“I’ll try that first, then, ‘cause if it ain’t that, then we’ll find out pretty quick.”

“That is a much wiser idea.”

The dog gave a huff through his nose, and turned back to the machine and pressed the button again. The symbols this time were right hand, bomb - perfect for testing out this ‘vice versa’ theory. He cleared his throat, and attempted to say ‘left foot, bacon.’ Instead, it came out as “ **Right hand, bomb** .” After Papierwaite had followed the instruction, the arcade machine gave a pleasant  _ ding! _

“Ah, so it  _ is _ as simple of a system as that!” the man said happily.

“Don’t jinx us,” Sam replied. “We could still be dealin’ with a rigged system - ‘specially if Max thinks we figured it out.” Next symbols: Left foot, flail. Which meant he should say ‘right hand, brass knuckles’, which then meant he  _ actually _ said, “ **Left foot, flail.** ”

“Just one more,” Yog-Soggoth said, “and we will have overridden the impulses.”

“I’m gonna say that I bet the last one’s not gonna be as easy as that and is gonna pull the rug from under us.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because I’m hopin’ if I’m skeptical, the universe that loves t’ work against me will prove me wrong.” He pressed the button again. “... **Left hand, gu-** ”

The whole room shook violently as the head of a Maimtron suddenly busted through, a pained and enraged roar from Max drowning out all the other sounds. However, as soon as Sam fell forward and banged his head off the arcade machine, everything went black.

. . .

“...am! Sam, stay wi…”

The dog groaned painfully, his head throbbing painfully and his ears ringing. Although his vision was a blur and his hearing wasn’t much better, he knew it was Papierwaite tending to him. He was lying down, and he attempted to sit himself up - only to nearly fall over when one of his hands completely missed the couch he was lying on. The only thing that kept him from faceplanting was the pair of hands that held him up, then proceeded to help him sit up. “Wha’ happened…?” Sam asked groggily.

“You hit your head and blacked out for a few minutes,” Yog-Soggoth explained. “You didn’t go completely unconscious, thankfully, but it’s quite possible you may have a concussion.”

“I have concussions for breakfast,” the dog murmured dismissively, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the lights in the living room that seemed brighter than they had been. “Is Max alright?”

“He’ll be fine. A robot to the head is painful, but it thankfully didn’t hit anything important.”

Sam squinted at him, unsure what he was talking about. After a moment, however, his memory caught up, and his eyes widened. “Oh,  _ shit _ -”

“Eh, you may want to take this,” Papierwaite said upon noticing a wound on the side of Sam’s head that was starting to bleed, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to him.

Sam took it, and put it against the wound. “What about the gaming room, though? I mean, we didn’t finish overriding the transmitters or whatever-”

“About that. You see, when the robot had crashed into his head, it ended up exposing the radioactive brain core, which caused some radiation to leak into the room. It is too dangerous to go back in, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that sucks. What are we supposed t’ do now?”

“I suppose we will just have to find some other way,” the creature said. “In the meantime, perhaps you should continue helping Sybil.”

“Huh? Oh, right. I was supposed to...right. Is she alright?”

“She’s fine, yes. She knows that everything is fine with us as well.”

“Alright. Good. I’ll, uh- I’ll go back t’ lookin’ for that...thing that I was lookin’ for.”

As the dog stood up, Papierwaite looked at him doubtfully. “...Do you even remember what you were doing?”

“Vaguely. Look, you guys hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

The sorcerer and Old God watched as Sam went towards the nearest chute, practically stumbling into it and even bumping into the wall on the way up. “... _ This _ is supposed to be one of the idols of the Boxists?”

“Potentially,” Yog-Soggoth corrected. “But yes.”

“...Do you really think that he can somehow pull this off?”

“Well, he hasn’t died yet, so there’s still some hope, I suppose.”

“‘Suppose’.”

“He’s no Hercules. Let us leave it at that.”

. . .

It took a bit of looking around to find anything of use - and it didn’t help that Sam might have gone through the same chute more than once a few times, his sense of direction still feeling a little jumbled up. Actually, he nearly wandered right into the now radiated gaming room at one point. That was almost a horrible mistake. But he’d eventually come across what seemed to be a very,  _ very _ large storage room which seemed to consist of mostly random junk. Or, so he thought, up until he recognized the vintage posters just underneath the shelf that held a statue of a Mariachi frog band that Max had gotten him just last month for his birthday.

Sam noticed that the single Max spore was still apparently following him, and with no Old God present to tell him to knock it off with his attempts to communicate with it, he looked towards it and asked, “Are these your memories?” The spore merely spun in place in response. “I’ll take that as an excited ‘yes’.”

As he walked through, he took the time to scan the various shelves that were in there, which, now that he was actually looking, contained many things that he recognized: Objects from old cases, miscellaneous items that Max seemed to find joy in - even things that Sam had either forgotten or assumed that Max had.

“Is that our old roach farm?” Sam asked upon noticing the thin glass container sitting upon a shelf. The spore only chattered in response, but he was going to assume that was confirmation as well. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen that thing. Man, you used t’ love it. Shame that they ended up eatin’ their way out.” Pause. “...Somehow. Never did figure out h-”

“Egg,” the spore said.

“Wh- huh.” The dog was  _ very _ much confused by the seemingly random statement. That was until he’d noticed the flaming Max head staring at the container intently, and followed his gaze. 

Surely enough, inside the container, there was a singular egg, and not too long after the spore had pointed it out did it wriggle open, a baby cockroach crawling out. 

“Oh! Well, that’s pretty neat!” He looked at the spore, and said, “Thanks for showin’ me that, but I can’t stay in here and reminisce. I gotta find some cables t’ help Sybil.” He turned to go search through the memory storage, and failed to notice the way that the spore frowned.

He continued to look through the storage, continuing to note the various ‘memories’ that were in there. Eventually, he found some cables on the floor - ones that he recognized well he’d used while making his own arcade machine that one time. Sam had needed to test it, but the plug that needed to go into the machine’s internals and the plug socket in the wall had been too far, so Max had stolen an extension cord from their seventh grade teacher to help out.

_ Simpler times, _ Sam couldn’t help but think wistfully. He sighed through his nose and bent down to pick them up - and felt a lurching sense of nausea as his vision went white again, though it didn’t have the same, sort of static-y feel that teleporting had. And when his vision had returned, he’d found himself  _ much _ closer to the ground, and completely without hands.

“What the h-” he started saying, before turning towards what looked like a busted mirror (which Sam recognized as one that Max had busted up while at some jerk’s house party), and saw that he’d been turned into a Roomba. “Are you  _ kidding  _ me!?” He gave a long, frustrated groan. “ _ Maaax! _ ”

The spore, which had remained fairly close to him while he’d been looking, floated over him and chattered.

“Don’t  _ ‘krkrkrkr’ _ at me! I’m tryin’ t’  _ help _ , why are you makin’ this so  _ difficult!? _ ”

“Don’t yell at me,” the flaming Max head said in that choppy way it did.

“‘M not yellin’, I’m just frustrated.” He heaved a deep sigh, and muttered, “Now how the hell am I supposed t’ pick these up…” 

After a pause for thought, he backed up for a moment, then moved forward and started pushing against the cables, trying to push them against the nearest shelf in an attempt to get them on top of him somehow. When it was clear that it wasn't working, he backed up again and attempted to reassess the situation.

...He decided the best solution was the easiest one, and started pushing the cables in the direction of the exit. Hopefully, at the very least, he could push them into the chute. The only thing was, at his current size, it was hard to see with all of these cables in his ‘face’. He felt he had a well enough sense of direction not to bump into anything, though.

Of course, as soon as he thought that, he accidentally bumped into a shelf, and felt something land right on top of him and fell onto the floor.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

“Egg!” the spore responded.

“Shit-” he cussed, catching on at once. “Is he okay?” He was trying to look around to try and see where the baby cockroach was - and then paused upon hearing a squeak. “...I just accidentally ran over him, didn't I.” The spore chattered in confirmation. “‘Course I did.” Sigh. “Hopefully he can hang tight for a bit until I can fix this...somehow.”

He continued to push the cables towards the chute, trying to be extra careful not to bump into anything else. Perhaps it was because he was easily ten times smaller than he usually was, but the exit seemed a lot farther than-  _ aaand _ he just fell right into it. Of course. As soon as he had, his vision went white and he found himself returned to normal, albeit floating upside-down.

“Thanks,” Sam muttered sarcastically, earning a mischievous giggle from the flaming Max head that, admittedly, made him smile just a little bit. After a bit of maneuvering, he managed to get himself upright and grabbed ahold of the cables on the way up. 

When he’d reached the top of that particular chute, he paused upon hearing another squeak, and looked down towards his pant pocket in time to see the baby cockroach skittering up his side and up to his shoulder, its antennae twitching slightly.

“Guess you’re joinin’ the ride too, huh, li’l fella? Well, I suppose the least I can do is carry you around for knockin’ over your home then runnin’ ya’ over.” The little cockroach merely waved its antennae. Figuring he shouldn’t keep Sybil waiting any longer than necessary, he kept moving forward.

. . .

“Glad to see you’re in one piece,” Sybil said as soon as he showed up, though upon seeing the wound on the side of his head, she frowned, and grabbed his chin to tilt his head to one side. “Well, for the most part, anyway.”

“I can already tell you’re gonna be a fantastic mother. And I mean that in the sincerest way.”

“Oh, be quiet.” She pulled her hand away and looked at the cables in his hands. “You think these’ll work?”

“They should. I mean, they worked for an arcade machine once, so I see no reason why they shouldn’t work for this equipment. What should I hook up, by the way?”

“Treadmill,” she replied decisively. “It’s the only thing in here I  _ can _ use, really. I can just walk on it.”

“Alrighty.” He set the cables on the floor, then knelt down to hook one of them up to the ports on the panel. Speaking of the panel, he decided to ask, “You figure out how t’ override this thing yet or what?”

“Not entirely, but I do think I’m onto something. Just check this out for a second.” He stopped bending over and, though he was still on his knees, straightened himself enough that he could see the panel’s surface. “So you see all these buttons here?”

“Mhm.”

“I was just pressing them at random at first, not having any clue what they’re supposed to do, but now that I’m really looking, I think they might be colour-coded.”

“Okay,” Sam replied, taking her word for it. “So ya’ think there’s some sorta colour-based code here or somethin’?”

“I do. But I have no idea what it could be. I mean, I’ve tried the order of the rainbow, frontwards and backwards, I’ve tried seeing if hitting his favourite colour would work-”

“His favourite colour?”

“Yeah. He said it was orange, right? Unless I’m wrong. I just remember him sayi-”

“He’s colourblind, he can’t actually see orange.”

“...Wait, seriously?”

As Sam pulled himself to his feet, he asked, “Did you not know he was colourblind?”

“No, I knew  _ that _ , he’s a rabbit and all, but- I don’t know, why would he say orange is his favourite if he can’t even see it?”

“Well, I don’t like callin’ him out like this, but he claims it’s his favourite ‘cause it’s actually mine.”

“...Huh. But then if the orange button isn’t working, then…?”

To answer her unspoken question, the dog simply hovered an index finger over what, to Sybil, looked like a neon green button, but to  _ him _ looked like a pale orange colour, and pressed it down. At once, the panel dinged, a slightly distorted electronic voice saying, ‘ACCESS TO LEGS GRANTED.’

“Wh- I pressed that!” Sybil protested, “ _ Twice! _ ”

“Sorry, Sybil, but this ain’t a standard machine. Obviously it wasn’t enough t’ just happen t’ press it.”

She gave a slightly annoyed huff, but said, “Whatever. The important part is we have access now.”

“Exactly. Now let’s get that treadmill hooked up…”

With a little effort, Sam was able to move the treadmill over towards the panel and hooked it up. There was a visible spark that occurred when he did so, and the spaces between where the parts of the treadmill were connected seemed to light up.

“Ya’ sure you’re well enough t’ do this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but if your feet start gettin’ sore or tired, lemme know, okay?”

“ _ Yes _ , okay. Now stop acting like the brother I don’t have and go do whatever it is you have to do to get us to Battery Park.”

He gave a quiet, amused huff, and muttered, “‘Brother you don’t have’” before heading up the chute that led to the living room area. 

When he arrived back in the living room, Papierwaite was still standing there, looking at the entrance to the chute that led to the now irradiated gaming room. Upon noticing the dog enter, he asked, “Are there any updates?”

“Sybil’s got that override up, and I guess she’s got access to ‘is legs, now.”

“At least there is finally some good news.”

Sam stood beside him, staring at the chute as well. He could see faint wisps of radiation, but the chute went so far down that it was likely too thin to do anything harmful. “Guessin’ we still ain’t any closer t’ figurin’ out a way around  _ this _ problem, are we?”

“We are afraid not,” Yog-Soggoth replied.

“This probably sounds ignorant, but can’t ya’ go in there? I mean, I imagine an Old God like yourself wouldn’t be bothered by radiation, right?”

“Normally you’d be correct - filtering toxins is a natural function of my kind - but given that I’m attached to a human host, it’s nowhere near as strong as it should be. We wouldn’t die from it, unfortunately, but we would not last long enough to override it, I don’t believe.”

“What if I could find a hazmat suit or somethin’?”

“Wouldn’t work. This isn’t exactly your typical radiation, remember.”

Sam grumbled in annoyance. “Well, there’s gotta be  _ some _ way around this. There’s no way we’re just stuck ‘cause of some stupid-” He was cut off by that familiar sound of chattering, and glanced over just in time to see the spore flying off into a chute and tilted his head. “Wonder what  _ he’s _ so excited about…”

“Probably just gained another victim to feed off of,” the creature mumbled. “I wouldn’t pay it much mind.”

“Yeah, well I would - and am.”

“Sam, you are only wasting time!” Yog-Soggoth said as Sam started leaving.

“No I’m not!” Sam called back as he went down.

The Old God merely scoffed, and murmured to his host, “Come along, Anton - let us try to do something  _ actually _ useful.” Although a little reluctant, Papierwaite did as he said, and headed for a chute that led elsewhere in the amphibianesque beast’s body.

The chute that the spore had apparently gone down was the one that led to the stomach. The DeSoto was still sitting there blocking off half of the kitchen, dirtied and dented but otherwise not beyond repair. Sam wasn’t entirely sure why the spore had come down here, and looked up at it to see if maybe it would give him some sort of hint. However, it was simply doing laps around the one light that was hanging on the ceiling.

_ Well, you must’ve come down here for a reason, _ Sam thought. He decided to start walking through and actually take a  _ look _ through this kitchen area. After all, he’d only been there briefly beforehand, and he hadn’t exactly thought to look around before going to talk to Sybil. There didn’t seem to be anything too out of the ordinary. Well - too out of the ordinary considering he was wandering through the stomach of his best friend.

“I hate that I realized this,” Sam said, “But all those jokes about you eatin’ me, and you’re probably not even aware enough t’ appreciate it.” The spore merely chattered in response. Sam turned his attention from it to the view in front of him, and blinked upon noticing something on the other side of the car. Curious, he found himself hopping into the vehicle, turning it on and winding down the window just to see what it was. 

He poked his head out and raised his brows at what appeared to be a large plate with a single corndog under a glass container with only a button next to it. He glanced up to see if maybe he could get some sort of hint as to what this was, but there was merely a wooden arrow pointing to it. He looked back down at the plate, and decided to press the button just to see what it did. And what it did was simply open the glass container, leaving the corndog out in the open.

He picked it up and observed it, as if maybe expecting it to be a clue - but for the most part, it just seemed like a perfectly normal corndog. He looked out the windshield, where the spore was now lingering, and shrugged. “I still dunno why you brought me down here,” Sam admitted. 

The spore gave no response, but as Sam had been distracted, the baby cockroach, curious, had decided to crawl down his arm and towards where the corndog had been. 

“I mean, is there somethin’ I’m missin’ here, or-” He’d been interrupted by the sound of the glass shutting suddenly, a surprised squeak following it immediately after, and he’d looked to see that the baby cockroach had now been trapped in there. “Oh no!” He attempted to reach for the button to release him, but the spore decided now was a fantastic time to get right in his face. “Not  _ now _ , Max, I gotta get him outta there.” The spore refused to move, and he huffed in annoyance. “What - do ya’  _ want _ him t’ stay in there?  _ Why? _ How does keepin’ him in there help?” It merely chattered as it usually did, and Sam huffed, muttered, “Fine,” then exited the vehicle.

He  _ was _ going to just leave and go back to Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth, but the spore wouldn’t even allow him to do that. Obviously, it had intentions in mind, and although Sam didn’t have the first clue what they could be, he was willing to trust it on the account that it had yet to lead him astray, knock on wood. While he was waiting, he eventually sighed deeply through his nose, and folded his arms and leaned on the side of his car, lightly tapping his upper arm with his fingers-

Wait...was that the sound of someone screaming?

For the second time that night, he glanced upwards just in time to back away before something - well,  _ someone _ , rather - landed hard on the roof of the DeSoto.

“...Sal?” Sam asked, baffled.

The cockroach man, who’d groaned in pain upon hitting the roof, looked over quickly in surprise. “Oh!” he said rather pleasantly, as if he hadn’t just had a painful landing, “Hey, Sam. Sorry I didn’t come back, I just kinda forgot.”

“It’s...okay,” the dog replied, though his confused tone made it sound more like a question than a statement. “Uh...this might be a dumb question, but how...how did you get here?”

“Well,” Sal started explaining as he sat up, “I was jus’ kinda walkin’ along, mindin’ my own business, doin’ my own thing. Then, uh, next thing ya’ know, gettin’ approached by a giant green monster, scooped up and swallowed whole. Y’know how it is.”

Sam blanked for a moment, having been staring past Sal and looking at the glass container that still held the baby cockroach - realizing that  _ that _ probably had something to do with  _ this _ \- then eventually blinked and shook his head to snap himself out of it. “Uh- yeah. I guess I do.”

“...So, uh, what’re  _ you _ doin’ in here?”

“I’m, uh...tryin’ t’ save my best friend before he gets killed by a bunch of robots that are bein’ ordered by a statue of Abraham Lincoln.”

“Yeesh. Sounds stressful. Anythin’ I can do t’ help?”

“I mean, I don’t really know if-” He cut himself off, his ears perking forward in realization. If cockroaches could survive just about anything, then... “Actually...maybe...there is somethin’ you could try for me.”

“Shoot.”

“Well- it’s- you kinda-” Pause. “...Just go up this chute here-” he gestured to the one that led to the living room area. “I’ll show ya’.”

“Alright.” Sal proceeded to do as instructed, and before Sam followed him up, he made sure to grab the baby cockroach first, allowing it to climb back up his arm.

“Okay, so,” Sam started explaining once he’d followed Sal into the living room, showing him the chute that led up to the gaming room. “Up there-” he pointed upwards, “-there’s a room, right. And there’s an override that looks like an arcade machine but plays sorta like Twister, and ya’ have t’ get it right however many times and then you can control- I dunno, actually, but I guess we’ll figure it out. Problem is, no one else can go in there ‘cause there’s a bunch of radiation in there right now, so, uh, it’s pretty much just gonna be you on the mat with a semi-sentient scanner readin’ the instructions out for ya’.”

“Eh,” Sal responded casually. “Seems pretty straightforward. Anythin’ else I should know?”

“No, I think that’s about it. Though, uh- could ya’ bring the scanner back, too? It’s got some sentimental value t’ me.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” He cracked both pairs of hands, and said, “This shouldn’t take too long, I don’t think.”

“Try not t’ linger,” Sam said. Even if Sal could survive this, there was no need to expose himself for anything unnecessary length of time. After the large cockroach had disappeared into the chute, the spore decided to come up behind him and chatter right near his ear. The dog gave a patient sigh, and said, “Alright, I admit it.” He looked at it over his shoulder. “That was a pretty good idea by you.” The smile on the spore’s face widened, and Sam couldn’t help but smile himself.

A minute had passed. Then two. Then four. Then at the fifth minute, Sam frowned, worry beginning to seep into his mind. This felt like it was taking longer than it should’ve. That something was going wrong and Sal was in some form of danger and couldn’t even be helped because Sam would likely pass out as soon as he got up to the room...no. No, he was just scaring himself. That was all. Sal was taking a perfectly normal amount of time, and he was just getting paranoid. Yeah, that was it. It had to be it...

Sal eventually came back down the chute, and the dog released the breath he’d been holding, and loosened the tightened grip on his shirt collar a little bit. The cockroach man went up to him, and handed him Carol the scanner. “She did great readin’ off those instructions,” he said as Sam took her from him. “I can see why ya’ like ‘er. She’s pretty good.”

“Ha - yeah, she is,” Sam replied with a slightly triumphant smile. And Yog-Soggoth had said that idea was stupid. However, that smile faded once he realized just how tired Sal looked and sounded. “...Are you alright?” he asked, setting Carol aside on the side table next to the couch.

“Nah, not really,” Sal admitted, dragging his feet over to the couch and allowing himself to plop onto it, lying down. “Actually, I, uh - I think I might be dyin’.”

Sam’s blood went cold, and his heart rate - which had just calmed - shot right back up again. “...What?”

“Yeah, that, uh-” He gave a harsh cough, which made the dog’s ears pin back. “I think that radiation is- is gettin’ t’ me. I don’t think I’m- I don’ think ‘m bouncin’ back from this.”

“...Oh my God,” Sam breathed shakily, Yog-Soggoth’s words of  _ ‘This isn’t exactly your typical radiation, remember’ _ suddenly echoing in his mind. “Sal, I-I swear, I didn’t- I didn’t know that-”

“That’s alright,” he said quietly. “I did.” Sam’s heart skipped a beat at that statement, and he found himself speechless. “I knew ya’-”  _ Cough _ . “Ya’ told me not t’- not t’ linger. I knew it would probably- probably kill me if I did. Stuff’s pretty...potent...smells pretty bad...b-but I figured, what good is an override if ya’...can’t even use it.” Another harsh cough escaped him, and once it had subsided, he reached into his shirt and pulled out a device with two joysticks attached, and Sam was only just barely able to catch it before it hit the floor when the cockroach’s already shaky grip gave out. “I took the time t’ unhook it,” he explained. “Hope that...it can be of use…”

Sam could only stare at it, his eyes wide and his hands trembling. His mind felt like it was going blank, and yet like it was going a thousand miles a minute. He didn’t question whether or not these controls would still function now that they were no longer attached to the machine, nor did he care. The only thing that really mattered is that Sal had gone and put his own health at risk just to take an extra step in helping him. In the midst of his brain feeling like it was shorting out and running too fast at the same time, only one question ended up bubbling to the surface: “...Why?”

Sal went quiet for a moment, and for that moment the dog had feared that he’d already been lost. Thankfully, this had not been the case, as Sal spoke up again. “I know we...only really  _ officially _ met, like...a week ago, but...I always heard you and your partner talkin’ from the kitchen, and...I-I dunno. I guess I could always- could always tell how important he was to ya’. And ya’ seem like a good guy, so...I dunno,” he said again. “I just wanted t’ help.”

That genuineness of the last statement felt like a stab right between the ribs, and at once, Sam murmured, “You have.” Pause. “...Thank you.”

“Eh. Don’ mention it.” There was another lull of silence, but Sal again started talking about. “If, uh...if you see Stinky again...could ya’ tell ‘er that I...I wish I could’ve seen ‘er again? And that I...I…”

Sam waited for him to finish his sentence, but after too long of another bout of silence, it became apparent that he never would.

The dog exhaled, feeling shaken by the death that just occurred in front of him -  _ again _ . He stared at his body with wide, mortified eyes, before his gaze slowly fell onto the controls still in his hands. He contemplated what exactly he should do for what felt like an eternity, before eventually setting the controls down next to Carol, and, with an unsteady hand, took out the walkie talkie. After taking a moment to swallow the lump in his throat, he spoke, “Papierwaite.”

“ _ I am here, _ ” the man replied. “ _ What is it? _ ”

“Those neurotransmitters are overridden. And I have the controls here, so we can hopefully control whatever it is we can control now without needin’ t’ go into the game room t’ do it.”

“ _ Oh! _ ” He sounded surprised. “ _ That’s...that’s wonderful! But...how? _ ”

“...I’ll explain later when this is over. Just come get it then find Sybil. You can probably hook it up t’ the panel and get it t’ work.”

“ _ Alright. _ ” Pause. “ _...Is everything okay? You do not sound...quite yourself. _ ”

“I’m just…” He looked over at Sal, still lying on the couch, completely unmoving. “...Tired.”

“ _...I see. _ ”

“Look, just come get it, get it t’ Sybil, then...we can work the rest out from there.”

“ _ Okay. I will be there as soon as I can. _ ”

As soon as the crackle of the walkie cut out, he put it back on his belt. The sorcerer must not have noticed, but Sam purposely didn’t say which room the controls were in in an attempt to buy himself some time. Granted, Papierwaite could likely guess on his own, but it wasn’t as if Sam needed a ton of time. He heaved a deep, tired sigh, his eyes still fixated on Sal. It...didn’t feel right to have the others walk in on a body. And while it was more than likely inevitable that they’d discover Sal, he could at least try and spare them the trauma until  _ after _ they operated.

He lifted the large cockroach up - surprised by how light he seemed, despite his size - and made for the chute that led to the kitchen, intending to let him rest peacefully in the back seat of the DeSoto until the rest of this blew over.

. . .

The General sat on the rubble that was once the Boxists’ shrine made in the underground of the apartment building on the Straight & Narrow, and had his pistol pointed at the moleman that sat cross-legged across from him, his eyes shut and his fingers hooked together. They had both been sitting like this since the rest of Skun-ka’pe’s crew had taken off, and they both had remained silent during this time.

That was until the space gorilla decided to break that silence to question, “Why pray? It will not keep your  _ ‘brother’ _ out of harm’s way.”

Obediah did not respond to this questioning of his faith, but rather, after a few moments of silence, decided to say, “I know why it is you do this. Why you crave such destruction and violence. I have read and heard about many people like you.”

“You do not know the first thing about me.”

“There are so many who are dealt a bad hand in life. They are made miserable by others, and so they aim to make others miserable. To make others feel their pain. It is one of the very first lessons we are taught-”

“Are you attempting to say,” Skun-ka’pe said in a low growl, “That seeking retribution for one’s abuse is some sort of  _ sin? _ ”

“Nay. Retribution is a form of justice and justice is something the abused deserve. What  _ is _ a moral crime is to hurt others just because you, too, are in pain. You are correct in that I do not know what you have suffered, but I know that there is no suffering that could be enough to justify you desecrating and slaughtering and destroying-”

“If you are accusing me of being selfish, then you are far from correct. I do this for my boys. I do this to show them that our origins, our  _ shames _ do  _ not _ define who we are. They have seeked my guidance from the very beginning-”

“And you seek power,” the Boxist interrupted him, his tone calm yet firm. “You crave it and you wish to achieve it by any means necessary, to make up for the fact that you once lacked it. Just as your boys seek your guidance to make up for the fact that they may have very well been lost up until they met you. The problem becomes, however, in your ambition for power, you may lead them straight into the Pits. And once you do, you will be no warlord - just an angry, lonely man.”

The gorilla breathed heavily through his nose, fury lining his body. His thumb raised to cock the gun, but just as his thumb placed any sort of pressure on it, Tiro was down the tunnel and in the underground, and said, out of breath from his hurry to get there, “Sir. I found Irwin.”

Skun-ka’pe patiently and quietly sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment as he removed his thumb. “Where is he?” he asked calmly.

“He was on the ship as I had predicted, but sir, something came up.”

The General’s eyes shot open, and he stood up quickly at once. “What? What came up?”

“I hadn’t even had a chance to enter the ship when that Stinky girl, she- she...she stole one of our weapons, and she tore his brain out-”

“ _ What!? _ ” Skun-ka’pe snarled, immediately enraged by this sudden news.

“She was goin’ to use one of the clones, but he caught her, so she-”

“Find her,” the space gorilla ordered. “Find her at  _ once! _ And tell the others to search for her, too!”

“What about the molema-”

“ _ Forget _ him! Whatever he could possibly say or do is nothing compared to a snake in the grass striking one of our  _ own! _ Leave him be, and find  _ her! _ ”

“Y-Yes, sir! I’ll contact the others at once!”

“And  _ you _ ,” Skun-ka’pe turned back to Obediah once Tiro had left, pointing the gun right at him. “Do not think that this is over - or think that this indulges any of your- your-  _ delusions _ .”

“You poor, lost soul,” Obediah replied, maintaining his calm, “You are the one with the delusions.” 

The General could only snarl in response before finally deciding to leave the underground to follow his fellow crew member out.

. . .

“Where the hell could this girl be?” Flint asked under his breath for the umpteenth time, no doubt. He’d been searching for a while now, and had yet to have any luck in finding her so far. If he didn’t end up finding her in this next location, he was certain he’d just go back to the diner and take a look through that secret passage, and see if maybe she had gone through somewhere in th-

He stopped suddenly in his tracks upon hearing a distant thud and feeling the ground shaking, several other people around him giving surprised and frightened murmurs. He knew exactly what - or rather,  _ who _ \- was causing it, and he was looking around to see where he was coming from, but it made no sense. He was nowhere near the downtown area, he shouldn’t be-

There was a frightened cry from someone, and turned to see Max coming around the corner and onto the street he was on, helicopters hovering near his head though keeping enough distance not to get swatted at. “Everyone, get back!” he called, leaning forward to grab someone by the upper arm just to quickly get them off the street, “Stay on the sidewalk!”

As the amphibian-like beast walked by, he caused everything to tremble with each step, and Flint could only look up at him in awe of just how massive he seemed up close. Jesus - and Sam had had the opportunity of practically being face-to-face with him…

Speaking of which, he decided to pull out his phone and call Sam. It had been a while since he checked in, and he wasn’t sure if the dog was still keeping up with the updates on the situation or not. Even if he was, it didn’t hurt to confirm that he knew, especially since the creature suddenly wandering out of what had been his usual (and literal) stomping ground for the past week was worth bringing to his attention anyway. However, before he’d even brought the phone to his ear, he ended up getting sent straight to voicemail.

“Dammit,” he cussed under his breath. That was already a bad sign. He immediately decided to dial Mama Bosco’s phone instead. Thankfully, she did pick up.

“ _ You may wanna make this quick, Paper, _ ” she said, “ _ I’m kinda in the middle of something. _ ”

“Is Sam there?”

“ _ He’s not, no. Why do ya’ ask? _ ”

“I mean, aside from the fact that he didn’t pick up when he called, I’m currently watchin’ Max waltzin’ right out of the downtown and up the street. Figured that’d be good info t’ know, maybe-”

“ _ Oh, don’t worry about that. Sam’s taking him right to where he needs to be. _ ”

“What.”

“ _ Sam’s controlling him right now and taking him right up to Battery Park. _ ”

“...Again -  _ what? _ ”

Meanwhile, Sam was finding himself seated in front of the TV in the living room, walkie talkie in hand. While Papierwaite and Sybil were in that other room maneuvering the arms and legs, they unfortunately couldn’t see where they were going. The TV, Sam had discovered, more or less broadcasted everything Max was seeing, and thus he was the one that had to sit and instruct them on where to go and avoid bumping into anything important.

“Steer a li’l more t’ the left, yeah?” the dog instructed. “Let’s try t’ steer clear of these sidewalks and keep t’ the middle of the road.”

“ _ This has gone a lot smoother than I thought it would, _ ” Sybil admitted.

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” As he saw that the corrections were being made per his instruction, he lowered the walkie and gave a gentle sigh. The spore floated up beside him, and he murmured, “Never thought I’d be steerin’ my best friend like in one of those giant robot movies, minus the robot part.”

“Nerd,” the spore said, followed by a little giggle.

The dog snapped his head towards it, and said, “Speak for yourself, pal - you’re the one that got me into them in the first place!” The spore only responded with another giggle, though it sounded the exact same as the one prior, as if it was simply an audio clip that had been looped. Sam shook his head, then turned back to the TV - then perked his ears at the sight of the plant up ahead. He spoke into the walkie at once, and said, “Battery Park’s in view!”

“ _ About time, _ ” Papierwaite said. “ _ You would think a monster of his size would travel a little faster. _ ”

“ _ Land roaming Old Gods never have particularly been fast, _ ” Yog-Soggoth commented.

“Implyin’ you weren’t a ‘land roamer’, I’m guessin’?”

“ _ Of course not! My home was in a burrow in the sea. The ‘Mariana Trench’, I believe you modern folk refer to it as. _ ”

“Isn’t that also the name of a, uh...Canadian pop rock band?”

“ _...I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that. _ ”

“ _ How much further, Sam? _ ” Sybil asked.

“We’re right up on it. Just a li’l further t’ get in reach,  _ aaand _ ...okay, stop.” He could feel the slightest of jolts as Max stopped suddenly in his tracks, a low, burbly rumble leaving the beast. “Alright, now Papierwaite? Lift up one of his arms. Okay, now to the right. Other right. There ya’ go. Wait, no, too far, go left. Left. There. Okay, now lift up the other one. Now steadily left.  _ Steadyyy... _ and stop. Okay! Now that Max is doin’ a pretty weak impersonation as a background person in  _ Thriller _ , bring ‘em both down...now!”

Sam watched as both hands were practically slammed down onto the plant in Battery Park, and had to cover his ears as the creature’s roar - which, thankfully, sounded more surprised than pained - rang loudly even with Sam  _ inside _ his head. Once it had died down, however, the lights inside suddenly flickered out, and the dog was left in the pitch dark. No shine from the ceiling lights, no light coming from the chutes, no sign of the spore’s flame - not even the tumour was giving off its glow.

“...Guys?” Sam said into the walkie talkie. “You good?”

“ _ We’re fine, _ ” Sybil replied. “ _ Guessing you lost power up there too? _ ”

“Yeah. Was that, uh...was that supposed t’ happen?”

“ _ Just give it a second, _ ” Yog-Soggoth said.

Surely enough, about a second later, the lights came back on, making Sam shield his eyes with his arm until his eyes readjusted. Once they had, he did a little head count in the room: Carol was still on the side table, baby cockroach still on his shoulder, and the spore...appeared to be just getting up off the floor, shaking itself off.

“Everything good?” he asked it, his brows furrowed in concern. 

It responded with its typical chatter, but at least it sounded normal. However, the spore soon turned quickly towards one chute, then quickly decided to bolt and fly down another. Sam was a little confused by the behaviour up until he saw Papierwaite enter, helping Sybil into the living room as well. The dog stood up with a small grunt, and watched as Sybil went over to the tumour while Papierwaite decided to finally pry the knife out of the floor. He then handed it to the lady, who held it up, and brought it as close to the tumour as she could without actually touching it.

“...I think we’re good to go!” she said at last, earning a relieved sigh from the dog. “Just need to reapply this anaesthetic and give it a moment to kick in again, but then after that, we should be good. We should have this tumour out in no time.”

“Perfect,” was all that Sam said. As she lifted up and dug through the bag for the tool she had in mind, his attention ended up going towards the door that had teleported all of them away when he’d attempted to open it - and now he wondered if, maybe, if they were able to operate, then… “...Do ya’ think it’s safe t’ open this door?”

“Should be,” Yog-Soggoth replied. “His powers do appear to be out for the time being. I doubt trying to open it would result in what happened last time.”

“Let’s hope so,” he murmured, approaching the door. “Though, wonder if I even  _ can _ open it with all of this Dark matter-” 

As he said that, he’d reached out and grabbed the handle, and as he’d tried to pull open the door, the Dark matter pulled away a piece of the wall, like how pulling up roots would cause dirt to crumble and fall away. 

The dog’s ears perked forward in surprise. “Huh. This ain’t hard t’ open at all.”

He continued to open the door with a surprising amount of ease, the Dark matter still attached but evidently not barring off the door as he’d once believed. Inside, it just seemed dark and looked as if there was nothing in it. But Sam knew better, and decided to enter to see what was-

**_..._ ** ****

**__ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21 coming July 20th!!


	21. Convincing The Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl Stinky's final confrontation with her grandfather is interrupted. Meanwhile, Sam finally figures out the final piece of the puzzle as to why his relationship with Max spiraled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains explicit talks of suicide related topics, though these talks contain nothing graphic. unfortunately, it cannot be skipped over, so i advise you be cautious while reading, especially if you happen to be sensitive to these topics.
> 
> otherwise, please enjoy the chapter.

The old man groaned lightly as he struggled to open his eyes. Just from the fact that there was light blinding him alone made it easy to tell that he was _not_ in the typically, dimly lit diner. “What in the hell,” he muttered, blinking as his eyes tried to readjust against the harsh light-

“About time you woke up,” came the icy voice of his granddaughter. “And here I was thinking I had killed you a little too soon.”

“Ain’t such thing as too soon with-” he started shooting back, then stopped once he heard the sound of his own voice, which sounded _absolutely_ nothing like his own. Instinctively, he placed a hand on his own throat, as if maybe the drastic shift in the sound of his voice could just be fixed with a simple clearing of his throat, but even that felt completely wrong. “...What did ye do t’ me?”

“Get up,” Girl Stinky demanded, though she certainly didn’t bother waiting before reaching down and grabbing him by the shoulder and bringing him to his feet with a surprising amount of strength (though, at this point, for him, it wasn’t so surprising). She proceeded to drag him over towards a rail, and once she was near it, she pressed Grandpa Stinky up against it, gripped the back of his neck and forced him to look down at the abyss below. “Do you see that?”

“No,” he replied, knowing well he was being a bit of a smartass. In response, she put more force down on the back of his neck, making him grunt.

“Sal’s down there,” she said, her tone remaining calm, though anyone listening could tell there was a rage burning strongly just underneath, threatening to come out in a full-blown explosion if one wrong thing was said. “He died down there. If he’d have been working that night, he would still be here. It’s your fault he’s dead.”

Obviously, he knew this wasn’t true. He had seen Sal just the other night, quite a while after Stinky had been yelling at him about how he died. However, there was not much point in telling her that, because what then? She would only ask where he went, and seeing as he didn’t know, she would call him a liar. If he was about to reach a sudden end to his century-long life, he could at _least_ go out with a touch of dignity. And so, his only response was, “Haven’t ye waited long enough t’ kill me?”

“...You know what? You’re right. You’ve been on this damn planet for too long as is.” She finally yanked him back, making him hiss through his teeth, and forced him to look her in those hateful, teal eyes. “Rest in horse shit, old man.”

Just as the lady was prepared to throw him over the edge with all of her might, she stopped at the sound of what sounded like some sort of device heating up, followed by that all too recognizable deep voice saying, “Let us not be too hasty, my dear.”

She gave a _very_ annoyed sigh through her nose, and turned to see that Skun-ka’pe was standing only a few feet away, his laser pistol aimed directly at her. There were a few other members of his crew appearing behind him, all with their guns drawn. 

“I’m not your dear,” she said sharply. “How did you find me?”

“Next time you decide to take off with a brain, perhaps you should wait until the _stench_ fades away first.” She cursed under her breath - she hadn’t exactly anticipated him following the strong reek all the way down here. “You know, if you had just collected the brain of one of those clones, I would have left you alone. I would have been disappointed with your impatience, but I would have let it go. But to pluck Irwin’s brain right from his head-”

“He came at me first. I was just defending myself.”

“I can respect that. That is why I am giving you a chance to hand his body back over.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I do not think you wish to find that out.”

At the same time when Grandpa Stinky had been just waking up, Flint had finally arrived back at the lab after being informed that Sam had been going against his word and _not_ staying out of trouble. “Hey,” he greeted as soon as he entered.

The scientist glanced over at him, replied, “Hey,” then turned back to what she was doing.

He came up beside her, noting the walkie talkie that was standing upright near her. All she was doing was examining the scan she had taken of Max, likely trying to keep tabs on what was happening to that tumour of his, making sure it wasn’t doing anything too funky. “So, uh...what’s happenin’, where are they at?”

“Papierwaite just reported in and stated that him and Sybil are working on removing the tumour. They haven’t informed me yet if the Dark matter is causing any complications, but I’m sure if it is, I’ll know soon.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t. Sounds like it’s pretty nasty stuff. And, um...Sam?”

“Papierwaite said he went through some door and that he’s looking through it now to see what’s up. Just to clarify, the reason he’s checking it is because it was not only covered in Dark matter, but Max apparently didn’t want them going near it. He teleported them to separate parts of the brain just to keep them away.”

“So he’s just seein’ what’s so important in there.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, guess I can’t blame him,” he murmured. “I’d probably do the same in his position.”

“I’ll let you know whenever he reports in. Here’s hoping he isn’t getting himself into any trouble...”

“Here’s hoping,” he said in agreement. “Seems that trouble’s always waitin’ for him t’ catch- up…” He had faltered in his sentence only because he could swear that he’d heard something, and looked over in the general direction of the hole leading to the other lab. He had never paid it much mind before, despite how oddly placed it was, but now he could swear there were voices coming from it. “...Do ya’ hear that?”

The lady paused to try and hear. He could tell just by the way her brows shot up that she must have heard it as well. “...Who is that?”

“Not sure…” Flint drew his gun from its holster. “You stay up here, I’ll go check it out.”

“Be careful.”

The man entered the hole, and cautiously descended down the tunnel. As he got closer, the voices got more clear - and he paused as he recognized one of them as Girl Stinky’s. Carefully, he tried to peer through to see what was going on, and was met with the sight of what seemed to be Stinky and Skun-ka’pe having a stand-off, with Skun-ka’pe pointing a gun at her, and her...holding one of his crew members hostage, it looked like. He decided to keep out of sight for now, just to see how this was going to play out.

“And what?” the girl said. “You just take him back, and I walk away empty-handed?”

“At this stage,” the general replied, “I see no reason to negotiate, seeing as you were too impatient to wait for me to provide you with what you-”

“You were never going to give me what I wanted. I made the mistake of putting myself in a position where I needed your permission, and you used that against me. I wasn’t impatient - I just saw through your bullshit and took what I wanted.”

“And now I’m taking Irwin’s body back.” His brow furrowed, and his voice became more demanding - deadly, even. “Hand him over.”

Flint noted the words _Irwin’s body_ , implying that the minion Stinky had ahold of...wasn’t _actually_ one of his crew members? Somehow?

“No,” Stinky decided to shoot back, now positioning the gorilla in front of her - making it so that if Skun-ka’pe shot now, he’d be hitting the very thing he wanted back, if the detective was following the conversation correctly. “Either you stop screwing around and give me what I want, or I toss this bastard over the ledge.” At her saying that, Flint leaned over a bit to see the rail just behind her. “Get near me, and he’s going over anyway.”

“You have yet to make a full enemy out of me yet,” the pale gorilla said. “Behaving this way will change that very quickly.”

“Well that’s a damn shame, ‘cause you’ve already made an enemy out of me by trying to stand in my way.”

The lady then took a step back, clearly threatening to send the gorilla in her grip over the rail, and the others all exclaimed in fear for their ‘fellow crew member’. Even Skun-ka’pe seemed worried for the safety of ‘Irwin’s body’. There was, however, one other gorilla that came up to Skun-ka’pe’s side, and Flint could just barely hear him murmur to him, “Sir, Irwin isn’t dead. His brain is likely with the old man-”

That made Flint confused. _‘Old man?’_

“I would not forgive myself if his image were marred because of my irresponsibility,” the general murmured back.

“It wouldn’t stay marred. We could help him, we could make him better. If he were here, he’d want us to avenge him - not let us be bullied by this backstabber.”

For some reason, Flint ended up remembering one of the strange events Sam had recalled the day after Max had apparently been turned into a monster - the one where Max’s brain had apparently been taken from him. And then that somehow led him to the phrases ‘Irwin’s body’ and ‘old man’, both of which had confused him upon first hearing them-

Oh.

_Uh oh._

The general seemed to take his minion’s words into consideration for a long moment, before releasing a long sigh through his nose, and then slowly looked back over to Stinky, his amber eyes glowering. He raised his gun once again, prepared to shoot-

And Flint bolted out of his hiding spot at once, aimed and fired. The bullet, although it didn’t seem to injure Skun-ka’pe, did hit his hand, and caused the gorilla to drop the laser pistol in his hand. “What!?” the general exclaimed angrily, though obviously taken off-guard by the man’s sudden appearance.

Flint turned to look at the two behind him, and shouted, “Go, get outta here-!”

“Like _hell_ Ah’m runnin’!” Grandpa Stinky said - though he sounded more like someone doing a fake accent rather than the old man himself. “Ah didnae survive through the twentieth century just t’ get my arse beat by a bunch o’ bloody baboons.”

“I’m not sure if now is really the time t’-”

“Get them!” Skun-ka’pe ordered his crew. “After them, _now!_ ”

Flint turned his gaze back - only to widen his eyes at the sight of space gorillas charging. The one nearest in front of him actually _leapt_ towards him, and without even thinking, he ducked, causing the gorilla to land on his upper back, and with a bit of effort, the detective flung him off. The gorilla stumbled, but ended up bumping into the rail, which caused him to fall backwards, and, with a startled cry, he fell into the large drop below.

“ _RORY!_ ” Skun-ka’pe yelled, visibly devastated. Some of the gorillas that had originally been charging towards the man were now going right past him to clutch and look over the rail, calling the name of their now fallen crew member. Others had stopped right in their tracks in pur horror.

Flint took some steps backwards towards the other two, and said, “I get the feelin’ this is about t’ get ugly pretty quick. Any ideas?”

“Let me handle it,” Stinky said.

The detective immediately shot her a look, and said, “ _You_ handle it?”

“Yes - _I’ll_ handle it,” she shot back. “I’ll come up with something, just buy me time.”

“...” Flint looked at the old man-turned-space gorilla, pointing at her with his thumb. “Are we okay with this?”

“Just get the hell out o’ here,” Grandpa Stinky told his granddaughter. At once, she turned and headed off, and after she had, he cracked his knuckles. “Been a while since Ah’ve had a proper scrap,” he murmured under his breath. “Reminds me o’ the days back in the taverns with that bastard relative o’ yours.”

The man couldn’t help but give a slight smirk. “You gettin’ nostalgic, old man?”

“Shut up - an’ keep yer head sharp,” he said, right before the gorillas had finally moved past their shocked stupor and yelled in rage, charging towards the direction of Flint and Grandpa Stinky.

As soon as Mama Bosco had heard the firing of a gun coming from the hole, she had gathered up her things, and urged ‘Sammy’ to follow her out of the lab and up towards the apartments, where they were more likely to be safe. As she did, she got ahold of Papierwaite, and said, “Things are going down up here. I think one of the labs is under attack. How much longer?”

“ _It is still hard to say, I’m afraid. Are you safe?_ ”

“Don’t worry, I am. How about Sam, has he come back yet?”

“ _No. He hasn’t left the room since he entered._ ”

“What the hell could he be _doing_ in there?”

. . .

The dog could only stare at the presence of the man in front of him, who was dressed in a tux with a rose neatly pinned into the lapel, his black hair done up in a pompadour. He was sitting - one leg crossed over the opposite knee and hands placed politely in his lap - in an office chair at a desk that reminded Sam of the one in his own office. To say that he didn’t recognize the man was an understatement - he was positive that he had never met this man in his entire life.

“Took you long enough to get here,” the man spoke up at last, breaking the silence that had lingered ever since Sam had entered. His voice carried a slightly English accent that Sam couldn’t help but compare to one of those posh voice-over narrators from old TV shows. “And here I was getting worried you would divert my expectations.”

“...Um…” Sam hummed, still visibly confused.

“Ah, my apologies.” The man got up from his chair, and went around to standing in front of it, saying as he did so, “It feels like we have known each other for so long that I forget this is only the first time we have properly met.”

Sam continued to remain puzzled by this...person? Entity? He wasn’t quite sure. However, the man did not continue to speak, and, in fact, seemed to be waiting patiently for the dog to finally talk. “...You are...part of Max?” he tried to guess with a hint of nervousness, as if he was addressing a harsh teacher and getting the answer long would result in him being berated.

“That certainly is an observation.” Not a good observation, Sam noted, but not a bad one either. He could accept that, he supposed. “I am what others, I believe, refer to as the Superego.”

“Oh!” the dog said. “Okay.”

“...You sound surprised.”

“Well, it’s just- I mean, everything else here has been a physical construct of some sort, so, y’know, I, uh...wasn’t expecting an actual...personification.”

“You saw a door, and you failed to think that perhaps it was a door to some _one_ rather than some _thing?_ ”

Sam tapped his fingers together, not particularly knowing how to answer that intelligently. He supposed it was a somewhat fair criticism to his levels of observation. “...You were waitin’ for me?” he decided to ask, switching the subject.

“Waiting? Oh, no, not in the slightest. I was expecting you would inevitably arrive, seeing as your thorough methods usually call for examining _every_ part of the area, but I certainly was not waiting.”

“But you said-”

“I said I was worried you would divert my expectations. I would hardly say that equates to saying that I was waiting. Would you not agree?”

The dog paused again, allowing himself a moment to think it over before nodding. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair t’ say.” He gave a small sigh through his nose, his expression thoughtful as his brain attempted to finish registering the current situation in front of him. Eventually, he said, “So, you’re what we couldn’t reach when we tried t’ save Max.”

“That would be an accurate statement, yes. And, erm - apologies about that other furry fellow. Hope you understand that I personally had nothing to do with that.”

“Huh? Oh. Sammy. Yeah, no, he’s fine, I wouldn’t...worry too much.” Pause. “...We, uh- well, _they_ \- Sybil and Papierwaite - they’re out there tryin’ t’ remove that tumour.”

“I am aware. Just because it is happening outside the door does not mean I am ignorant to what is happening. That is the benefit of being a part of the general conscience.”

“Right. Yeah. That makes sense.”

“The question becomes, do you actually believe that it will work?”

Yet another pause. This felt like...a trick question somehow, but he felt he should answer honestly anyway. “I’m...not really...I’m not sure if removin’ it’s really gonna fix the problem. I mean, the Dark matter’s still in here whether there’s a tumour or not.”

“I would say that is a fair assessment.” Once again, there was silence from the dog, and the man - well, Superego, apparently - sighed impatiently, giving a small eye roll. “If there is something on your mind, just spare me the awkward silence and just say what it is that you wish to say.”

“I...I’m sorry, I just...I thought you were trapped in here, but from the sounds of it, you seem to actually be...okay with being in here.”

The Superego’s expression shifted, as if he had been waiting for this subject to come up eventually, though why that would be the case or why this subject specifically, Sam hadn’t the slightest clue. “Yes. As you can see, I am in here and I am well. So, pray tell - why would you believe that I am trapped?”

“Well, again, you- we couldn’t reach you when we tried t’ save Max, and with all that Dark matter blockin’ your door, I figured you’d be stuck if anythin’.”

“Ah, but was the Dark matter really _blocking_ the door, Sam?”

“...No. Not really. Actually...not at all. Even if ya’ put one of those five letter locks on it, it couldn’t be made harder t’ open even if ya’ tried. The stuff just sorta...crumbled away like bad drywall.”

“Mhm. And what does that tell you?”

Sam had to stop and think about that. What _did_ that tell him? Perhaps he could come in and the entity could get out, but- no, they’d already establish he wasn’t trapped. In fact, if anything, they’d more likely had just established that he could leave if he wanted. And if he wasn’t being trapped in there, then it wasn’t the brain teleporting him away to keep him out, it was- ...he was being teleported away to...keep him _in_ …

When he had come to a realization, his brows furrowed in a confused expression. “You…” he eventually said. “...You aren’t sayin’ that you... _purposely_ stayed in here this whole time?”

“Incidentally,” the man replied, “Yes, I am. And I have.”

“Wait, you- seriously?” He appeared completely baffled by that response - and, frankly, he was. It made no sense to him whatsoever. So much so that it prompted him to ask: “Why?”

“Because I do not wish to.”

“But if ya’ stay in here, won’t the Dark matter eventually get ya’? And, I mean, even if it doesn’t- if you’re Max’s Superego, then- I mean- well, you’ll still get killed-”

“Exactly.”

Sam looked at him with wide eyes, the single word feeling as if he had suddenly been shot in the gut. “...What?”

The Superego looked at him with almost a pitying expression, a frown set on his face. He shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief that this was as shocking to the dog as it was. “You really still have not caught on yet. Have you?”

“...What are you talking about? Caught on to what?”

“I suppose I have no choice but to take that as a ‘no’. How...disappointing. You are the most meticulous, heedful detective I have ever known - no offense to Paper, of course, he does just as well, but- despite all of your caution, you still have yet to realize the most obvious possible thing, even when there have been so many signs waved right in your face.”

Sam shook his head, still very much puzzled on what he could possibly have been talking about. “What? What is it, wh-what am I missin’?”

“How is it that you could never see that I just want this all to _end?_ ”

His blood ran cold, his heart rate picking up - and Sam knew why yet, at the same time, somehow didn’t. “Want what t’ end? This- this situation or-”

“I was hoping to avoid having to say this so candidly, but since you appear to be in some form of denial - whether it be consciously or no - allow me to put your feelings at risk of harm for but a moment to put this in a way that you cannot misunderstand: I wish for death and, in fact, welcome the current attempts being made on my life.”

The dog stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, absolutely unable to believe what he was hearing. It didn’t even seem real, hearing this entity- this- this _Superego_ that was apparently a part of Max just blatantly stating his desire to die. ~~Then again, he hadn’t really believed it when Max’s vice of sloth had stated it, either.~~ “I...I don’t understand,” he said, somewhat shakily.

“Oh, _come_ now-”

“No, I-I know what you said, I just…” The man was saying this wasn’t sudden - that this was apparently a long time coming - but it still felt sudden to Sam, and it left him confused as well as almost hurt in a way, to be told like this instead of by Max himself. “Why didn’t he just tell me…?” he asked in a murmur to himself.

“He never was quite the type to express weakness,” the Superego replied, looking at his nails. How he could act so casually after dropping a bomb like that, Sam definitely couldn’t understand.

“‘Weakness?’” Sam replied, shocked that that was the word he chose to use. “You don’t- he doesn’t actually think that-”

“Would you have even listened if he mentioned it to you?” the man asked, looking back at him with his arms crossed.

“Of course I would! Why wou-”

“Would you really? Because given your track record, you seem to have an awful lot of trouble opening your ears to the going ons of your partner. Why would Max even bother to assume that bringing it up to you would have any other than the same result?”

“Look, I-I didn’t mean to act like I was shuttin’ him out-”

“You were not 'acting like’ it, you _were_.”

“Well, it wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t tryin’ t’ hurt him, I just- I got scared-”

“ _You_ got scared?” the man said with disbelieving laughter in his tone. “If I recall correctly, you were not the one that was _shot_ , nor were you the one who had the one person who should have been there suddenly turn their back on you, and for what? To protect him? To keep your own feelings safe? And you are the one that claims to have gotten _scared?_ ”

Sam remained silent in response to that - mostly because there was no way to respond to that without seeming as if he was making an excuse. Well, _another_ excuse, rather. With the Superego’s statements, it was hard not to feel as if it was ridiculous for him to stand there and say that he had been scared, when he was the one that came out - physically - unscathed.

“Nothing to say,” the entity said quietly, though hints of anger still laced his tone. “Because you know that I am right.”

“…Please reconsider this,” Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please. You gotta see that it isn’t worth it.”

“As far as I am concerned, the preferable route here is to die via robot. Really, it is not such a bad way to go.”

“With Abe behind 'em, he’ll make sure every second is hell. Please, just- come with me, let me get you out of this, I can help y-”

“Unless you can prove to me that you actually care - that you are willing to change and to listen - I am afraid, moreso for yourself than for me, that I am not going anywhere.”

The dog didn’t know how else to respond to that. What he did, however, is remember then what Jebidiah had been telling him - about the Eidolon having to convince the Devil Bunny’s soul, and something it regards to its ideations. The Boxist had warned him that it had been important, but Sam had been so excited and hasty in the moment that he opted out of listening. Boy, was he regretting it now. On one hand, he wanted badly to stand here and convince this entity - this Superego - to not allow Max to die in such a brutal way.

On the other hand, he knew there was no time for that. Not if he wanted to save his friend. His _partner_.

The Superego appeared to have been waiting for Sam to say something, but instead the dog decided to examine the dark room around him. Aside from the man and his large desk and chair, the room seemed like nothing other than an empty void. In fact, it looked so...lonely in here. However, as he kept looking, he noticed what almost seemed to be another desk. 

Intrigued, he went over to see what was on it, and once he had gotten close enough, he recognized the items sitting on it. The Can O’ Nuts, the telephone, the viewfinder. They were a few of many of the now lost Toys of Power.

“There are not as many as there were,” the man said calmly, which prompted Sam to glance over at him. “Unfortunately, that electric shock you provided him caused a bit of an error in his memory. These are the only ones that remain.”

“...Do they still work?” Sam asked. “I mean, we did manage to shut off those powers…”

“All you really did was put a barrier of sorts between the brain and its access. The toys themselves remain perfectly functional.”

The dog continued to look over each of the toys sitting on the table, picking up the playing card and turning it in his hand before setting it back down. His gaze ended up turning towards what seemed to be some sort of projector, which had a sort of scrapbook next to it. Curious, he went over and looked over the scrapbook to see what was inside. There were photos, certainly, but they were not photos of events or memories, but rather photos of locations. The office, the White House, the diner...Skun-ka’pe’s ship.

Upon seeing the image of the inside of that ship, Sam suddenly recalled the words that Max had rambled him so very long ago: _“It’s so neat- so I touched it, and then the tape started going, and it was suddenly as if I was in the movie-”_

The dog switched on the projector, and at once, the Superego asked, “What is it that you are doing?”

“...If I can fetch the Chthonic Destroyer using this, I can put a stop to this,” Sam replied quietly. “I can get rid of that tumour _and_ the Dark matter inside Max’s brain. If all goes as it should, then...that should reverse this whole condition of his.”

“...Of course your solution to this is to fix it by force,” the man muttered, “Rather than heed what I had told you.”

Sam sighed deeply through his nose, then looked back at him. “I can’t prove anything to you if you’re dead.”

The entity was the one that fell silent this time. It seemed that even if he was annoyed by the way Sam was deciding to handle this, that he could at least understand where the dog was coming from. “...Very well,” he said at last, turning away. “Do what you must.”

Sam couldn’t help feeling a hint of guilt at him turning away like that. But he couldn’t allow that to change his course - he had to retrieve the Destroyer. He just had to.

Turning back to the projector, it still appeared to be the same sort of film projector that it had been the last time he laid eyes on it, though he could now see a slot to accommodate for the fact that they were polaroids instead of film reels. Whether that had been there before or placed specifically by Max was beyond him, but nonetheless, he carefully slid out the image of Skun-ka'pe’s ship from the scrapbook and into the slot. He then switched the toy on-

And soon found himself in that exact same cage he had been in when Skun-ka'pe had kept him prisoner on the ship.

“Ah, yes,” he muttered, “My favourite place.” Before he could even begin to look around for a way to get out of here (which, y'know- if he couldn’t get out before, then how the hell was he supposed to get out now?), there was a sniffing sound right in his ear, which made him immediately swat in that direction with an irritated, “Hey! Back off, p- oh.”

In the midst of his swatting, the sniffer had backed off quickly, and he had turn his head only to be greeted with one of the Sam clones, whom of which was now wide-eyed with confusion and fear - and, though he didn’t quite catch on in that moment, was wearing his hat.

Jeez - aside from ‘Sammy’, Sam had legitimately forgotten about the clones. Poor guys ended up stuck on an island then got taken prisoner by Skun-ka'pe, it seemed. He almost felt bad for them- _Ohhh_ , this was actually one of his worst childhood nightmares coming true.

While looking at the dog clone, he’d ended up looking down at himself only to find that he had nothing on but the same pair of underwear every other clone had. He had recalled only then that Max had mentioned not being himself, but rather his great-grandfather when he had done it. Guess the role that the projector had decided to give him was one of the clones.

Gross. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long.

The dog continued to observe his surroundings to see any possible means to escape - though, so far, it seemed to be as lacking of any way out as a clever mathematician lacked basic common sense.

“Dammit!” he cussed under his breath, clutching his hand on the bars of the cell in his frustration, knowing that the clock was ticking but there was nothing he could do while in there. Maybe if he exited this body and tried to re-enter, he could-

“Is somebody in here?” came a particularly young sounding voice, making Sam freeze.

His first thought, of course, was that it was one of Skun-ka'pe’s goons. However, he quickly dismissed that idea - some of Skun-ka'pe’s minions were young, yes, but somehow, he believed that even the general had just enough morality - or, at least, sense - not to have someone who sounded as if they were no older than twelve on his crew.

“Show yourselves now,” the voice said, sounding more demanding. “Lest we _drag_ you out.”

Although he knew that responding would be _ridiculously_ stupid, he decided that it was a bit of a necessary risk to take. Besides, even if he found himself in a jam, it wasn’t as if he would be stuck, what with this not being his own body and all. So, he spoke up, and said, “Could if I would- I mean, would if I could.”

“...What?”

“Sorry, got my tongue in a twist there. Look, I’m kinda in a cage here, and- well, maybe I’m supposed t’ be, but-”

“‘Cage?’”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He waited for a response, but received none. “...Do ya’ still want me t’ show myself, or-”

Without any sort of warning, the bars suddenly shot right up, which made Sam yelp in surprise as he was momentarily dragged upwards before forced to let go, resulting in him landing painfully on his rear.

“Exit,” the voice ordered. “ _Now._ ”

“Just gimme a second,” the dog practically grumbled as he shut his eyes against the brief ache in the base of his tailbone before getting to his feet and exit the prison - and gave another surprised yelp when it suddenly clanged shut behind him. “ _Jesus_ , could ya’ give some warnin’?”

“ _Now_ show yourself,” the voice ordered once again, ignoring Sam’s comment.

He gave a light huff, but did as he was told, turning the corner which led to the large lower deck. At a glance, it was clearly empty - there was absolutely no one there, not even at the wheel. His expression seemed confused.

“Turn around.”

He did so, and at first was only met with the sight of another Sam clone - this time, in a glass prison - before looking up at the upper deck, and seeing a brain in the tank. “Oh,” Sam said, a little surprised. “Hey.”

The brain tilted, as if mimicking the motion of tilting their head which, evidently, they no longer had. “You are not...one of them. At least, not entirely.”

The dog blinked for a moment, surprised by how quick the other had caught on to this rather weak facade of his. That look of surprised confusion cleared into a look of understanding quickly, however. “Right - Psychic brain. Yeah, I, uh- I’m not exactly a clone. I mean, _physically_ , sure, but-”

“You are the original. Are you not?”

“ _III’m_ not sure if I should answer that just t’, y’know, avoid incriminating myself.”

“Then we shall take it as an inexplicit ‘yes’.”

“...You’re really not that bothered, are you?”

“No, not particularly. Anyone that exposes themselves so willingly could hardly be much of a threat.”

“Not _all_ willingly,” Sam muttered, looking down at his flabby stomach and putting a hand on it. “But, uh...if ya’ know who I am, then...you could probably guess why I’m here, right?”

“Yes. You have come for the Chthonic Destroyer, as it is yours to claim, ‘Samuel Barkley’.”

“Would’ve believed ya’ if y’ left it at ‘yes’, but glad ya’ took the time t’ clarify, anyway.” The brain merely hummed. “…The question becomes, are ya’ gonna try t’ stop me from getting it?”

“And whyever would you believe that we would?”

“I dunno, I mean…you’re bein’ used t’ power Skunkape’s ship.”

“You assume we are on that brute’s side?” He sounded almost a little offended

“I just figure that, based off the last guy, you don’t have much of a choice.”

“…A fair assessment, I suppose. But we care not for protecting his property. My only concern would be, what are your intentions with it?”

“I’m not sure if you’re entirely aware, but there’s been a large creature roamin’ in the downtown area of NYC for the past week. I need the Destroyer t’ save him.”

“You’re a liar,” the Psychic’s brain shot back at once.

“I ain’t lyin’.”

“But you are not being entirely honest, either.”

“Well, pardon me if I don’t feel like sharin’ every explicit detail at the moment. On a bit of a time crunch.”

“Then that is unfortunate, because the Chthonic Destroyer isn’t here. Skun-ka'pe brought it with him when he went off to confront some molemen.”

Sam knew at once that he was referring to the Boxists, and asked, “Then where is he now?”

“Not a clue. He has not returned since he left for them.”

The dog groaned in frustration. He wasn’t sure if the brain was being truthful or purposely lying as a means to penalize Sam for not wishing to spill his guts to a stranger whom he had never met. Either way, he was running out of time and patience - and he certainly wasn’t about to waste both by running around the city looking for Skun-ka'pe. “…I told you my intentions,” he finally said, “So unless they weren’t what ya’ expected-”

“Why would you want to save the monster?” he questioned. “Is it not a monster’s purpose to be destroyed at whatever cost?”

“He isn’t a monster,” Sam snapped. “He’s- …he’s my friend.” The brain seemed to perk up in the tank at the confession, but Sam didn’t notice. “Actually, he’s a li'l more than that. But he’s not a monster. He’s so much more than that.”

“…I see,” the brain replied sombrely. “And that is why you wish to save him.”

“Yeah. I have to. I have to. If I don’t, I…I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. Possibly even to myself-” He was interrupted by the other’s gentle laughter, which he would have been offended by if not for the fact that it sounded anything but mocking. “What’s so funny?” he asked genuinely.

“Nothing. Nothing about this is funny, I just…recall feeling the same way, once. A long time ago now, no doubt, yet it still feels fresh.”

“...What happened?” Sam decided to inquire, curious and sympathetic enough to let this trapped brain talk about his own history. Lord knew Skun-ka’pe wasn’t going to listen to him - and if Gordon’s fate had been anything to go by, who knew if this unnamed Psychic would have that same chance before the cruel tides of fate decided to sweep him away too.

“Back when we- ...when I was just a mere villager, my best friend...Ramses...we did everything together. He was by my side when I had discovered the Toybox and its powers, and he had been there for every step of the way prior to me claiming the throne as my own. He was so caring, and...honest.” Pause. “...We started arguing, though. He was concerned for my health, and I...the Toybox...it was like a trap, and I was the frog that was too dumb to recognize it. I’m not quite certain what it did to me, but I know it drove me mad. And it...drove me to...Ramses...I cannot dare say what I had done to him. But I was hated for it. And I hated _myself_ for it as well.”

“...Sounds awful,” Sam said, a deep frown on his expression. But now he understood why the other had related to what the dog had said. However, some of his story was now giving him a bit of a nagging feeling of deja vu. He knew he had never _met_ met the owner of this brain, but he felt as if he should’ve at least recognized who he was speaking to. “...Um...who _are_ you, anyway?”

“...It doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied. “I’ll never be remembered for who I was, but rather, what I became. And perhaps that is for the best. If I am to be remembered in that way, I would rather be cursed as a monster than to be painted as a tragedy.”

“That’s...really depressing.”

“Well, so is your attire,” the Psychic shot back. "Or, rather, lack thereof.”

“That’s fair.”

The brain gave a huff, annoyed that the mood of his story had been ruined in such a manner, and for a moment Sam wondered if maybe he would continue to withhold the toy robot and its whereabouts from him just for doing so. But he eventually spoke up, and said, “The Chthonic Destroyer is in a panel in the steering. I shall unlock it for you now.”

The dog’s ears perked at the sound of a click behind him. Surely enough, when he’d turned around and approached the steering, he found that there was now a compartment open, and inside it stood the very thing he had been hoping to collect. “Thanks.”

“Before you leave,” the unnamed Psychic said as Sam started walking, “I must inquire on what you plan to do to that tyrant should he catch you. Because he _will_ catch you.”

“No, he won’t. ‘Cause for the amount of pain and grief he’s caused my li’l buddy, I can promise ya’ that I’ll be catchin’ him first.”

“Then should the opportunity arise, we will aid you. An enemy of our enemy may not necessarily be our friend, but they sure can count on us being their ally. Besides - we want nothing more than to watch his demise.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Go well,” the brain said as Sam made for the ship’s exit, “Eidolon.”

The last word had made Sam pause in his step. “...You too,” he replied, then - having finally realized where he would have recognized a Psychic brain, if anywhere at all - added, “Pharaoh.” With that, he took his leave.

. . .

Just as Flint had said, chaos had erupted shortly after he had thrown one of their fellow crew members over the balcony that led to the cavernous pit below, and things were getting _ugly_ \- as expected for a brawl that was two against a whole angry mob of space gorillas. While Grandpa Stinky was still dealing with them on his own - swinging mean right hooks and sharp jabs - Flint had somehow ended up locked in to a one-on-one with Skun-ka'pe himself.

The general gave a loud, angered growl as he swung a piece of the metal railing which he had torn off right at the detective’s head. Flint, in turn, managed to duck and narrowly avoid having five inches of steel whack him right in the side of the head. He then attempted once again to swing for Skun-ka'pe’s head, and once again the gorilla allowed him to hit him several times - and while Flint’s fists were beginning to bruise on his knuckles, Skun-ka'pe’s face remained unscathed.

Flint finally figured it fair to call over to his shoulder to the old man-turned-space gorilla, “How much longer do we gotta hold out for?”

Grandpa Stinky uppercutted one of the minions, which sent him reeling back, and - with the rail missing in that particular section - ended up nearly falling backwards, prevented only by his companions quickly grabbing for him. “Just keep swingin’!” he replied, sounding annoyed that the younger man would even ask.

“I am swingi-” Flint started calling back, only to hear another loud growl from Skun-ka'pe, which prompted him to look back just in time to see the general prepared to slam down the rail right on him. In his attempts to get out of the way, all he ended up succeeding in was falling right onto his back painfully, only to recoil his legs as the rail slammed onto the floor right between his legs. 

Before he could even begin to attempt to stand up, Skun-ka’pe was lifting up his weapon again to strike, and Flint instinctively held up his arms to block the blow. The metal struck against his skin and bone felt about as good as anyone could imagine, and Skun-ka’pe managed to get in a few hits on him before the detective was able to reach out and grab onto the rail-piece before it slammed right down on him. He managed to get to his feet, keeping a tight grip on the cold metal, and tried to pry it from the gorilla. Instead, however, Skun-ka’pe yanked the man forward, intending to harm him in some way, and Flint instinctively lifted his right arm to shield his face - only for Skun-ka’pe to grab it and wrench it to the side.

“ _Augh!_ ” Flint grunted loudly, the pain shooting from his wrist to his shoulder - and he could’ve sworn he heard the sound of bone cracking, as well. Shortly after the general had done that to him, Skun-ka’pe pulled his head back, then slammed his forehead against Flint’s. The man was knocked out cold at once, and - as soon as Skun-ka’pe let go of him - collapsed to the floor, lying facedown on his stomach.

Grandpa Stinky had managed to catch sight of the vicious headbutt the gorilla had delivered, and groaned in annoyance himself, muttering, “ _Great_.” 

When another one of those space gorillas took a swing at him, he decided to grab ahold of him and lift him up over his head and throw him towards the abyss. Just as he had figured they would, the other minions were once again shouting in alarm and rushing to try and catch him. And whether they succeeded or not, the old man didn’t pay it any mind. As soon as he had tossed that gorilla, he was charging towards Skun-ka’pe to aid Flint, yelling at the top of his lungs.

As Grandpa Stinky drew nearer, Skun-ka’pe prepared to swing. However, as he did, the old man grabbed ahold of it, and with a good amount of strength that he could’ve never hoped to possess at his age, he managed to force the rail-piece forward, which jabbed Skun-ka’pe right in the forehead and made the pale gorilla flinch enough to let go. As soon as he did, Grandpa Stinky swung the metal part upwards, hitting the general right in the chin. Regardless of whether he was actually doing damage or not (he wasn’t), he kept swinging at him, landing blow after blow-

And in the split moment where he raised it to bash down on Skun-ka’pe’s head, Skun-ka’pe managed to shoot out a foot and kick him, and the old man audibly winced, his knees and grip weakening slightly before he opted to collapse to his knees, holding the spot where he’d been hit, muttering something about it being ‘right in the gonads’.

Seeing as the elderly man had dropped the rail, Skun-ka’pe scooped it up, tapping it in his opposite palm for a moment. “Forgive me, Irwin,” he murmured, “I would never dream of doing this to even your image, but I am afraid that I must.” With that, Skun-ka’pe raised the rail-piece-

And suddenly Girl Stinky was standing just behind her grandfather, and said, “Drop it.”

Skun-ka’pe looked at her, prepared to make a snarky reply - but went wide-eyed and tensed upon seeing the antimatter bomb in her hand. It wasn’t activated, but that didn’t matter. If she’d set it for even just a few seconds-

“What?” she said, “Did you really think my whole plan was to throw my old man over a rail and hope that no one would find him down there?”

“Ye deranged banshee, ye were goin’ tae blow me _up!?_ ”

“Number one lesson you taught me, gramps - leave no evidence behind.”

“...Tha’s true, Ah did say that,” he said quietly.

“Have you lost your _mind?_ ” Skun-ka’pe questioned, shocked and enraged, finally lowering the weapon.

“Look, the only person killing him is _me_.” She hovered a finger over the button to activate it. “Drop the pipe now, and no one gets hurt.”

Skun-ka'pe stared at her, rage present in his amber eyes. However, he did end up tossing the rail-piece aside.

The girl’s gaze followed it as it flew and eventually clanged loudly against the floor. “Perfect,” she murmured. She then pressed the button, the device beeping before she even tossed it behind her.

“NO!” the general shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice drowned out by the loud explosion that occurred in front of him.

The flames of the explosion raised upwards, threatening to shoot up to the ceiling, but then remained suspended for a moment, then shot back down into the large crack the bomb had made in the floor as if being sucked in through a vacuum.

Skun-ka'pe’s crew, who had been to preoccupied attempting to save only one of their own, were now noticing what was happening, and while the few trying to help get their fellow crew member back up over the rail were attempting to make haste, the ones that weren’t were trying to were now trying to run and prevent the fate that they knew would come if they didn’t-

And then the flames that had been sucked inside the floor exploded inwards instead, and there was an audible sound of the ground crumbling as that entire section of the lab lurched forward suddenly, making some of the space gorillas lose their footing. Some near the rail ended up falling over the edge themselves.

“NO, _NO_ , **_NO!_ **” Skun-ka'pe shouted, attempting to run forward to aid his boys. Instead, however, he ended up tripping over Flint’s still unconscious body in his desperation, and landed on his stomach. Stinky then placed a foot squarely on his back, and shockingly enough, he was unable to get up under her strength. “BOYS-!”

He was only able to lie down and watch helplessly as his beloved crew slipped away from him into the abyss below, their shouts of fear and alarm echoing against the walls and in his ears before slowly fading away.

For the first time since he had been nothing more than a boy himself in that cruel, awful place he had once called home, he felt tears welling up in his eyes, which trailed down his cheeks and onto the floor beneath. And as if that was not proof enough of the pain he was now suffering, the lady - that _monster_ of a lady - decided to add insult to him by kneeling down and saying quietly in his ear, “You shouldn’t have stood in my way.”

As soon as he heard those words, something inside of him snapped - just as it had back in that factory, the day he had gotten his powers - and he let out a loud vicious snarl as he managed to swing his arm and fling Stinky away. She landed with a grunt onto her back, near the rail-piece the general had tossed. He got to his feet, breathing deep, angry breaths, the tear stains feeling as if they were burning against his skin in his rage-

“Ye get away from her!” Grandpa Stinky yelled, standing up to stop the gorilla from advancing on her. As soon as he touched Skun-ka’pe, however, the General immediately swung his fist right into the old man’s face, knocking him back and knocking him unconscious, his body landing right on top of the detective’s.

Stinky had recovered from being flung back, and was now getting up with the piece of metal railing in hand, though he was approaching her slowly, with a dangerous calm. She gave a yell as she swung at his head - and hit him with a surprising amount of power. His head snapped back at her as he bared his teeth. When she swung again, he caught the rail in his fist, and proceeded to fling her over his head and across the room with little effort. She hit the opposite wall, and fell to the floor. She tried to get up - and Skun-ka’pe was there to put his foot right on her.

She struggled to lift her gaze upwards as he leaned down and said quietly, “And you should not have brought harm to my crew.” After he had said that, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and promptly passed out.

. . .

Mama Bosco had found herself taking shelter in the apartment room that she had lent to Sam and Flint, which currently also housed Jebidiah. She had no idea what was occurring downstairs in the deeper parts of the building, but she understood that it was unsafe. She could have even sworn she heard an explosion, but with how far the sub lab had been from where she currently was, she couldn’t have been sure in that moment. In any case, she was sitting in a chair, with the walkie talkie loosely held in her hand, waiting for any of the three in Max to check in with her, and the radio quietly playing on the nightstand.

“...I suppose you will eventually need a ride back to your home,” Mama Bosco murmured to the moleman, getting his attention.

“I suppose I will,” Jebidiah replied, then added quietly, “Assuming it will be safe to return…”

“Hey, we’ll make sure you’re safe, okay? No one’s gonna let you go and get hurt or worse.”

“To be frank, doctor, I must admit I’m less anxious for my safety than for that of my brother’s.”

“We’ll keep him safe, too.”

“It could be already too late.”

“...There’s only one way to really find that out. But I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

“I sure hope so. But above all else, I hope that the Ei- erm, Sam is successful in his mission. It would be a great catastrophe if he wasn’t.”

“You got that right. But hey, it’s Sam. If anyone’s gonna succeed, it’ll be- him…” She had faltered because she had heard Abraham’s name on the radio. At once, she turned it up to hear what was being said.

_‘...down to one Maimtrom, but the statue of the sixteenth President has planned to make this last one count-’_

“Oh no,” she said quietly, and immediately stood up and brought the walkie talkie to her lips. “Guys, what’s the progress?”

“ _We’re not even close,_ ” Papierwaite said, sounding weary. “ _The Dark matter is not leaking thankfully, but it is making it difficult to continue cutting through._ ”

“Well, Abe’s down to one robot, and they’re saying he’s planning on making this one count.”

“ _How much time do we have?_ ” Sybil asked.

“I...I genuinely have no idea.”

Papierwaite wasn’t speaking directly into the device, but Mama Bosco could hear him saying quietly in realization, “ _We aren’t going to make it._ ”

There was a pause of silence. The scientist decided to break it by saying, “I-I could try to see if my lab is safe to go back to, but-”

“ _No,_ ” Sybil said. “ _We’ll just have to hold out._ ”

“That robot could be coming in the next _minute_. You might not have a chance to ‘hold out’.”

“ _I’m not giving up y-_ ” Before she finished her sentence, she gasped suddenly.

“Sybil?” Mama Bosco asked immediately, alarmed and concerned. “Are you okay, hon?”

There was no response for a moment, and then Yog-Soggoth said, “ _We may not have a choice but to leave._ ”

“...Oh my God,” the lady murmured in realization, sitting back down in the chair.

“ _We should go now, then-_ ” Papierwaite said, again not speaking into the walkie.

“ _No, we’re not leaving without Sam!_ ” Sybil protested at once.

“You mean he’s still not _back?_ ”

“ _No,_ ” Yog replied, “ _He still hasn’t come out from that room yet._ ”

“What the actual _hell-_ ”

. . .

It had taken Sam a fair amount of time trying to catch up to Max while on foot - with many people staring at him as he ran down the broken streets and sidewalks of the city, Chthonic Destroyer in hand. Eventually, though, he managed to catch up - and as soon as he did, he let go of his control over the clone, his mind wandering back to his original body. He knew precisely what he had to do next, and he would rather not be in the dog clone’s figurative shoes when it happened.

“Found what you were looking for, I presume?” the Superego asked as soon as Sam had blinked out of stupor. The man was seated at his desk with his hands folded on top of its surface.

“Yeah,” Sam said, sounding out of breath even though it wasn’t his lungs that were working twice as hard after running so fast for so long. “Just hang on, I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he muttered, watching the dog quickly exit his room.

As soon as Sam finally emerged from the room he had entered, Sybil said, “Sam, I think we need to-”

“Already on it,” he interrupted as he briskly moved past, figuring he could already guess what the issue was - especially given how much darker that tumour appeared to have gotten since he had vanished. He moved across the room and practically cannonballed down the chute that led to the control room, the baby cockroach on his shoulder audibly whooping in excitement.

He vanished for a good minute or two, before suddenly appearing again. Papierwaite started saying, “I really think you should know-”

“It’s alright, I got it!” Sam interrupted again, running straight into a different chute.

He found himself back in the room that was the stomach, and waited patiently. Eventually, the dog clone which he had once possessed came crashing down, hitting the roof of the DeSoto before bouncing off onto the floor.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Sam said, hurriedly helping the clone to his feet. He grabbed the dog clone’s hands, and his eyes widened upon seeing them empty. “Where’s the-”

Before he could even ask, the toy robot bonked the clone on the top of his head before bouncing into the clone’s open hands. With only a blink, the Sam clone held it out to his original counterpart.

“ _Yes!_ ” Sam took it from him, excitement clear in his body and on his expression. “Great job, pal!” With that, he left the clone alone in the room and headed back to the living room.

“We should really get moving-” Yog-Soggoth murmured.

“I already said I’m not leaving without him,” Sybil snapped back before Sam re-entered the room.

“You may want to move aside,” Sam instructed the others upon entering, holding up the Chthonic Destroyer in hand. “Just from experience, I think this could get pretty messy-”

“How did you manage to-” Papierwaite started asking.

However, he was interrupted by the Old God he was hosting, who said, “We are out of time, Sam, we have to go.”

“What do you mean ‘out of time?’” the dog questioned. “How could I not have a spare minute-”

Already tiring of the back and forth, Sybil simply stepped in front of Sam, hand on her stomach, and said clearly, “My water broke.”

Sam blinked in surprise, lowering the robot. “… _Now?_ ”

“I didn’t know, I swear, I didn’t-”

“W-Well,” he said, his voice faltering from the mere thought that they were so close and yet at risk of losing everything they had been working so hard for, “You go then! Get to the hospital, a-and let _me_ do this-”

“I’m not leaving you behind! And I’m not giving birth inside a monster-”

“That monster is my _friend!_ And I’m not lettin’ him die _now_ because of-”

“Save Sybil.”

The sound of Max’s voice, his words spliced together to form a sentence, did not make Sam freeze so much as the words. He registered the surprised faces on Sybil, Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth first before slowly turning to face the currently blank-faced spore he had been speaking to this whole time.

“…Max?” Sam said quietly.

The spore merely repeated, “Save Sybil,” and the television behind it flickered harshly for a moment, and then a slightly glitchy black screen with the very words ‘SAVE SYBIL’ on it.

Sam stared at him with the look of shocked disbelief, and almost looked a touch hurt by the spore - by _Max_ \- even suggesting the notion that he abandon all of this just to protect Sybil. And what the hell was he supposed to say? ‘No, I won’t do it?’

“She is right, you know,” the entity said, making everyone turn around, startled, to look at him, having not even heard the door open. But indeed, it was open, and indeed, the Superego was standing there, and he looked directly at Sam, and said, “The head of a creature such as Max is no proper place for a newborn, even on the best of days. You should go while there is still a chance to.”

Sam stared at him, then turned his head and looked at Sybil, who looked confused and almost a touch fearful - not of the man in primarily black and white that had emerged from his room, but for the safety of her child at this very moment. It was enough for Sam’s own expression of uncertainty to change into a determined frown. He started looking around the room for a safe passage out - then did a double take at what appeared to be a chute that appeared more like a slide than the other chutes, and had its access blocked by some sort of door with a turning wheel handle.

“Where does that lead?” Sam asked.

Understanding the question he was truly asking, the Superego merely replied with, “Out.”

“Perfect.” Immediately after saying that, the dog found himself practically ripping that door open, standing beside it and making gestures for the other two to go in it, urgently saying to Sybil specifically, “C'mon, let’s get you out of here!”

If she was questioning whether or not he would follow suit like she had wanted, she did not show it. Instead, she moved forward.

“Be careful!” Sam called down the chute when she had slid down it. Papierwaite approached - with both the scanner in hand and the baby cockroach on his shoulder - and Sam stopped the sorcerer by placing a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look at the dog. “You better keep her safe,” he said sternly.

“Do not worry,” Papierwaite replied, “She is in safe hands.”

Yog-Soggoth, however, had caught on to what the phrasing of Sam’s statement had implied, and he asked, “Are you not coming with us?”

“Don’t worry about it, just go!” Sam instructed. “Just keep her safe!” With that, the sorcerer and Old God had vanished down the chute after Sybil.

Eventually, Sybil and Papierwaite had found themselves outside and on solid ground once again. “Alright, miss,” Papierwaite said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let us get you to a hospital-”

“Wait,” Sybil said at once, looking around, “Where’s Sam?”

“He- ...he did not say what he was planning, just to keep you safe-”

“Oh my God,” she said, her eyes widening in realization and fear for her friend. “No-!”

His hand that had been placed on her shoulder was now replaced with his free arm preventing her from attempting to run back towards the beast. “We have to-”

“We have to go back!”

“We can’t,” Yog-Soggoth said, though his expression made it clear he was sympathetic with her anxiety.

“He doesn’t know what’s about to happen, we have to get Mama Bosco to tell him, _now!_ ”

As soon as Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth had vanished down the chute, Sam had shut the chute’s door - and the room seemed to have fallen silent once he had.

“...You were never going to go with them,” the Superego said. “Were you?”

Sam stared at the chute before him for a long moment, before sighing through his nose. “No,” he admitted. “As much as I value Sybil’s concern for my safety, I can’t just abandon ship now. Not when we’re so close.”

The entity and the spore exchanged a glance, before the entity shook his head with a somewhat annoyed sigh. “You should have just gone with them - rather than attempt to play the _sacrificial hero_ card. So cliche...”

“I ain’t tryin’ t’ play the hero,” Sam said, finally turning to look at the man. “That would imply I’m doin’ all o’ this ‘cause I’m tryin’ t’ save the city, and the fact is I’d actually blow up this whole city if that’s what it took t’ save ya’.”

The Superego blinked at the statement, as if taken aback by it. His brows then furrowed, his gaze falling to the floor. “...You are trying to rescue someone who does not wish to be rescued.”

“Except I don’t think I am. I think I’m dealin’ with someone who wants my help. ‘Cause if he didn’t-” He had been slowly approaching the man, who remained in his spot, and he’d eventually stopped right in front of him. “-He wouldn’t have told me what he did in the first place.”

The Superego stared passively up at him, although Sam could see in his eyes that the other knew he was right. “...Do you truly believe that?”

“I believe that you wouldn’t tell me that just t’ hurt me. I believe that you were tryin’ t’ help me help you while I was in here. And I believe that you personally prevented me from givin’ up when I was ready to.”

“If you believe all of that, then why have you not taken that-” He gestured to the Chthonic Destroyer still in the dog’s hand. “-And used it to remedy the situation yet?”

Sam gave a slight shake of his head, and said, “Because you still don’t think bouncin’ back is worth it. You’d rather I left.”

The man gave a huff, crossing his arms. “What happened to not being able to prove anything to me if I am dead?”

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but then was cut off by the walkie talkie crackling to life, followed by Mama Bosco’s voice coming through. “ _Sam, wherever you are, you need to get out of there!_ ” she said, desperation clear in her tone. “ _Abe is aiming to kill. Repeat, he is aiming to_ **_kill!_ **”

As soon as the word ‘kill’ was spoken, Sam’s expression shifted to one of shock and dread. The Superego’s eyes had widened as well, before a look of resignation appeared to replace his initial surprise. And the moment Sam noticed that sort of reluctant acceptance, he frowned, and - despite Mama Bosco still speaking, trying to gain his attention - shut off the device, the room falling silent once again.

“...Speak of the devil, I suppose,” the entity murmured. He received no response, and looked up to see that the dog was undaunted, and deep in thought. “...It’s already too late, Sam.”

“No,” Sam replied firmly. “No, it’s not. I can still fix this.”

“How?”

It had not been a question of doubt, but rather one that was genuine and curious, and it prompted Sam to eventually look towards the door that the Superego had come from. The projector worked - he knew that much - and Skun-ka’pe’s ship still had other clones…

“…Hold out your hands,” Sam murmured.

Although puzzled by the request, the man saw little reason in not doing so, so he did, holding his hands out with his palms up. Sam then placed one hand gently underneath one of the other’s, and placed the Chthonic Destroyer in his hands. ‘ **YOU DO NOT CONTROL-** ’

“Yes, he does,” the dog interrupted the toy robot’s usual spiel.

The Destroyer made a dinging sound at once, cheerfully saying, ' **PERMISSION GRANTED.** ’

The Superego blinked at the exchange the occurred before him, and looked up at Sam, who so happened to be raising his gaze to look at the entity. “That projector could take me t’ Skunkape’s ship,” he said quietly. “I’m goin’ t’ see if I can find a way t’ intercept that Maimtron, keep it from hurtin’ ya’. So, I’m goin’ t’ leave this with you.”

The man remained quiet, but nodded his head, understanding what it was Sam was telling him he was about to do.

“…I can’t make the decision for you, Max,” Sam said quietly. “I can only hope that I come off that ship and you’ll still be there. And if you aren’t, then…I need you t’ know that I was wrong t’ do what I did to you. It was my fault that things ended between us the way that they did, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you, and yelled at you for lashin’ out. It wasn’t fair. It was selfish. And...the fact is, I still love you. Very much. More than I have any right to after everything I’ve done.”

The Superego looked at him, his expression seeming complicated - as if he wanted to say so _much_ and yet wasn’t sure if he should say anything at all. Eventually, however, the entity shut his eyes, his brows furrowed, and turned his back to Sam. “...If you are to leave, you best hurry. That robot is not going to stop itself.”

Sam’s brows admittedly raised at the man’s words, mostly out of surprise that it sounded as if he was _encouraging_ him to go and put a stop to that Maimtron that currently threatened to kill his lifelong friend and love of his life. He decided it was best for him to wordlessly make his leave before that surprise subsided and his other emotions clouded his better judgement.

The Superego, on the other hand, kept his back turned as the dog left - and only dared to turn and look at the door after he had heard it click shut. His gaze lingered at the white door with the gold floral patterns, then it fell on the Chthonic Destroyer in his hands, his grip tightening on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22 will come out on the 25th!


	22. The Beginning Of The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes down to this final moment - it's now or never.

When Girl Stinky had begun to stir awake, with her whole upper body chained up as well as her ankles, one of the first things she had heard - aside from the various whirs and hums of the ship - was Skun-ka'pe murmuring something along the lines of, “You have no idea how lucky you truly are…”

She managed to open her eyes to see if she could spot what he was doing, and was met with what appeared to be the tail end of him switching back the brains of his own lackey and her grandfather - both of which seemed to be unconscious for the time being. When he picked up Grandpa Stinky, however, she shut her eyes again to feign sleep, and merely listened as the general opened up one of the caged cells and then shut it, presumably having tossed the old man in there.

Sam, having used the astral projector, found himself appearing into a clone’s body once again, this time taking the form of the lonely dog clone in the glass cell, which was positioned in the centre between the other cages and thus provided a better view of what he was dealing with.

He scrambled on hands and knees towards the glass and looked out. First and foremost, he saw Stinky chained up, slumped over slightly as if she were asleep. Then saw Skun-ka'pe gently lying the body of one of his minions so that he was sitting against the bottom of the throne that both Stinky and Max had once been seated on. And after the space gorilla had done so, he moved towards the steering, and after a few presses of some buttons, the ship felt as if though it were beginning to ascend.

Which meant he had to be quick in getting out if he was going to save Max.

He looked back at the sleeping girl that was leaned up against his prison, and knocked gently - though still just loud enough she could hear - on the glass. He noticed her flinch slightly, though she didn’t look back at him.

“Stinky,” he tried to say through the glass. “Stinky, it’s me.”

That had seemed to get her attention, for she had quickly looked over her shoulder at him, looking almost a little surprised and startled for a moment. She then rolled her eyes, however, and he could just hear her muttering, “Great - he’s learned how to speak now.”

“No, Stinky, it’s me. It’s-” He thought for a moment, trying to come up with a reference she could likely get. “It’s ‘Bruno’, y'know?”

Recognizing her own quirk of purposely referring to him by a false name, she looked back at him. “…Sam?” He nodded. Her eyes flickered from him to the general at the wheel that currently seemed too preoccupied to notice the exchange occurring behind him. Still, she kept her voice low, and said, “What the hell are you doing here?  _ How _ are you even-”

“No time to explain. I need you t’ help me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m being kidnapped and going to be killed by a big, intergalactic gorilla. I’m not really in the mood to do favours.”

“And I’m tryin’ t’ save my not-so-li’l buddy, so why don’t ya’ cut the crap and listen t’ me?” She didn’t answer, but aside from her glancing towards Skun-ka’pe briefly again, he seemed to have kept her attention. “I need t’ get control of the ship.”

“Good luck with that,” she muttered sarcastically.

He ignored it, and continued, “All I need ya’ t’ do is get me outta here and get me to the wheel. That’s it.”

“And what’re you gonna do if he catches you?” Another glance at her captor.

“Then I’ll fight him.”

“You’re not that stupid.”

“No, but I am that desperate.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Well then, he can go ahead and kill us both. Unless, y’know, you actually  _ don’t _ wanna take it lyin’ down.”

Stinky eyed him for a moment, then looked down, biting her lip in thought. And, of course, just as everyone else who had been at risk of death by the hands of Skun-ka’pe and his crew, she decided that no, getting murdered by a megalomaniac gorilla from outer space wasn’t the way to go. At least not while wrapped in chains, anyway. The last state she wanted to go out in was  _ helpless _ .

While she turned her gaze back to Skun-ka’pe, who now appeared to be steering them towards the sky, she began fiddling with one of the chains that she could just barely get ahold of in her current state. Once she grabbed it, she clenched her jaw to keep her grunts of exertion from being audible, and there was a quiet clink as she snapped the chain-

And immediately pretended to be asleep once more when the pale gorilla suddenly looked her way, with Sam ducking so that he was completely behind her and thus out of sight. Skun-ka’pe eyed her for a moment, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. However, after staring at her for long enough, he decided that she was properly unconscious, and turned back to his steering.

Stinky cautiously peeked an eye open before opening them both once the coast was clear. As well, Sam peered from behind her and also looked to see if all was well again, before saying quietly to her, “You can break a chain but ya’ get tied with rope and you’re helpless all of a sudden?”

“Well, now’s not really the time to try and keep up appearances.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to get this.” 

After having broken one of the chains, she slowly and carefully - with the utmost care not to make any further noise - managed to slip them off, leaving only her wrists and ankles bound. She managed to snap the chain attached to the cuffs on her ankles, but decided she’d keep the one attached to her wrists for now, already figuring out a decent use for them. She then carefully got to her feet, and moved to the keypad for the glass cage. She quietly punched in the code, hoping that the general hadn’t had the time nor thought to change it.

She was very lucky that it opened, and she was even luckier that Skun-ka’pe didn’t hear it open - though she supposed the whirring of the glass lifting up must not have been as loud when one was standing further away.

She gave a small sigh of relief through her nose, then turned to face the dog, who now had the ability to leave. “Wait for my signal,” she quietly instructed.

“What’s the signal?”

“You’ll know it when you see it, alright, just  _ wait _ .”

Sam kept his mouth shut, remaining passive for now. Stinky, on the other hand, turned back in the direction of Skun-ka'pe, and after a moment to make mostly sure he was actually distracted and not just feigning it, she slowly began approaching him from behind, walking on her tiptoes to ensure that her footsteps were as light and as quiet as possible.

“I will have to one day return to this travesty of a planet,” the general murmured to no one in particular, though just him speaking was enough to make her slow in her step slightly, thinking for a moment that he knew of her approach. “If only to burn every inch of it to the ground for what it has taken from me…”

Her belief that he was aware of her presence subsiding, she continued approaching him, eventually tensing the chain that was attached to her cuffs in preparation to-

“Or, more accurately-” He suddenly turned and swung, and made the girl grunt loudly as his knuckles ended up making harsh contact with her stomach, making her stumble backwards. “-What  _ you _ took from me.”

Dammit - of course he caught on.

The gorilla swung again, and she had enough sense to duck and reposition herself so she was behind him, and swiftly lifted up her arms and pulled the chain right onto his throat, making him grunt in frustration as he clutched at it. He stumbled only for a moment, but she promptly decided to hop onto his back for better leverage, her legs wrapping around his torso, and that made him stumble away from the wheel of his ship quite a bit.

Sam then realized that if anything were to be a signal, it was this, and he quickly managed to get out of Skun-ka'pe’s view as he bolted out of the open cell, and made his way across the lower deck.

Although Stinky was able to dig the chain harshly into the space gorilla’s throat, he eventually gave an angered yell, and snapped the chain in half before reaching behind, grabbing ahold of her and throwing her in the direction of the glass cage. She grunted as she hit the floor a couple of times before rolling across it. The Rulsalka eventually stopped herself, however, and sat herself up, her fingers digging into the floor, her hair disheveled and her teal eyes practically glowing in rage.

“You certainly are not as clever as you seem to believe you are,” Skun-ka'pe said lowly, slowly walking towards her.

“Could say the same for you,” she shot back.

At first, he smirked derisively at that, though he noticed something in the peripheral of his vision, and that smirk vanished when he looked up and saw the cage open and empty.

Before he could even process what was happening, the ship suddenly lurched to the side, causing both him and Stinky to tumble in that direction across the floor. Skun-ka'pe just managed to look up to see that the cause of this was the dog that was currently at the wheel, and steering the ship away from the sky above and back down towards the city.

With a low growl, the general managed to get to his feet - only to feel a hand grab his ankle moments before it was yanked out from under him, causing his face to smack off the floor as he fell back onto his stomach. He looked behind him to see Stinky attempting to get closer to him, undoubtedly to try and continue to assault him. However, he managed to twist his body so he was on his back, pulled back his leg and roughly kicked her off, sending her tumbling again. 

He then got to his feet again - and fell forward before hitting against the side of the ‘throne’ when the ship suddenly leaned forward as Sam maneuvered the ship. As he attempted to regain his footing, he ended up noticing that Irwin was no longer where he had placed him, and when he looked to see where he had gone, his heart nearly leapt when he saw that the unconscious younger gorilla was sliding right towards the front window.

His amber eyes shot from Irwin to the dog at the controls, and - immediately feeling desperation to try and save his last remaining crew - leapt from where he was with a yell. His yell, as intended, had startled Sam enough for him to suddenly look over moments before the gorilla harshly shoved him away, making the dog fall onto his back. Skun-ka’pe then took the wheel and sharply turned it in one direction, and looked towards Irwin to see him gliding along the edge of the window but otherwise no longer at risk of falling off-

The general was then shoved, and though he didn’t fall back, he did stumble, and Sam was back on the wheel again, and turning it back to the direction he’d had it prior to Skun-ka’pe knocking him over. And since the direction was once again putting Irwin’s life at risk, Skun-ka’pe found himself grabbing ahold of the wheel, and attempting to turn it the opposite way.

As the two struggled to steer, the ship looked as if it was going haywire from the outside, and several bystanders watched up in curiosity and alarm as it seemed to flit back and forth but progressed forwards nonetheless, and eventually bumped into the side of a building.

As soon as that had occurred, Skun-ka’pe’s footing slipped for a moment, and Sam took advantage of that moment of weakness by shooting a foot out and kicking the gorilla back, sending him flying back. And before the general could attempt to get to his feet once more, Stinky was quickly on top of him again, using her whole weight and strength to keep him held down.

Although Sam had no idea how much further he was from Max, he knew that he must have been getting closer - and hoped that he would make it before that Maimtron did.

As he continued to slice through the air, the lights on the ship flickered for a moment, and it felt as if the whole ship dropped a couple of feet before recovering its usual buoyancy. Sam gave a quick glance behind him, looking directly at the brain in the tank. He recalled only now that Gordon had eventually given out, and now was concerned for the brain’s health, considering all of this must have been draining the poor guy quickly. “Hang in there!” he called to the brain.

“Worry not,” the brain assured, “We can keep this up for as long as necessary!”

It was with that former part of that exchange that Skun-ka’pe finally caught on that the dog he was looking at, despite appearing the exact same as any of those other clones, was not, in fact, actually a clone. With a growl, he managed to swing his arm up and shove the girl off of him, making her grunt when she hit the floor-

“Sam,” the brain shouted, “Watch out!”

Sam, who had turned his attention to the commotion going on behind him, looked back to the window - and gasped sharply at the sight of the amphibian-like creature that was Max practically coming barreling towards them. Or, more accurate, they were barreling towards him.

The dog heaved the wheel upwards, and the entire inside of the ship leaned backwards - so much so that Sam’s feet actually ended up coming off the ground and dangling behind him, Irwin was now smacking into the front of the ship’s controls, and Skun-ka'pe and Stinky rapidly started sliding backwards.

As the ship was ascending, the incoming Maimtron - which had almost been directly enroute to Max - ended up colliding in the side of the ship. The collision didn’t do any sort of damage, but the impact had been enough to slightly disrupt Skun-ka'pe and Stinky’s sliding, causing Skun-ka'pe to hit his back on the wall just beside the glass cage, and Stinky to tumble directly into it.

Sam groaned as he attempted to both hang on to the wheel and pull himself up enough to get sure footing again. Since the ship’s wheel was stuck upwards, the ship eventually stopped ascending, and now was beginning to tilt upside down. Skun-ka'pe grabbed the edge of the glass cage to keep himself from being flung right to the ceiling, while Stinky, with nothing to grab on to, did hit the ceiling of the cell.

Eventually, with much exertion and way more upper body strength than he’d ever used before in his life, Sam managed to pull himself up and get his foot back on the floor, and as soon as he did, he pulled the wheel back, and the ship’s attempt to do a loop-de-loop was brought to a sudden halt, and was quickly returning upright.

Once Skun-ka'pe had sure enough footing again himself, he looked into the cell where Stinky was. As she herself was trying to get back on her feet again, her and the general locked eyes for a moment. And in that moment, the girl knew what Skun-ka'pe was about to do, and rapidly attempted to get to her feet and scramble out - and was cut off short when he coolly reached over and tapped the keypad, making the glass shut right in her face. As she banged her fists on the glass, he merely gave her a bored look, then turned his attention to the front-

Right as Sam was trying to readjust the steering, having overshot the pull-back that put the ship back in the right position which was now causing the ship to lean too much forward. He didn’t fix it in time for Irwin to avoid flying out the window - and Skun-ka'pe watched as his only surviving boy fell silently.

And that rage he had felt back in that lab after witnessing the rest of his crew fall to their demise returned full force, though his expression remained unreadable.

“Where is it?” Sam muttered to himself, attempting to find the Maimtron as he was steering near Max, trying not to nearly run into him again. “Where is it, it was just here…”

He was so preoccupied with locating it that he hadn’t even heard nor noticed Skun-ka'pe approaching him - until after there was an incredibly hard and incredibly  _ painful  _ blow to his back, which slammed his whole torso right into the wheel and effectively knocked the wind out of him. He could only hang limply on the wheel, his legs suddenly feeling numb, in the brief moments he had before the gorilla decided to grab him by the scruff and heave him away, making the dog hit the floor painfully a couple of times before he simply rolled across it and eventually stopped. When he had stopped, one of his eyes felt like shit and he was pretty sure he’d busted his nose on the floor and was now bleeding from it.

As the general looked down at him, he almost couldn’t help but give an amused chuckle. “Detective,” he said in a calm, pleasant tone, saying the word slowly. “I should have figured. Only you would demean yourself in order to stick your nose in where it does not belong. Now here we are - with you at my mercy-” He put a hand on his own chest. “-And me,  _ merciless _ .”

“That’d be a lot cooler if I didn’t recognize that from an Irish author’s book ‘bout a skeleton,” Sam shot back. He attempted to sit up - and immediately hissed as a shooting pain went up his back. Despite it, however, he attempted to get his still numb legs to work with him, groaning forcefully as he did so.

“Don’t bother trying to get up,” Skun-ka’pe said, making the dog look up at him, panting. “I made sure you  _ couldn’t _ .”

“Ah, shit,” he cussed, sounding out of breath from even just his failed attempt to get up. He understood now why his legs felt like nothing but TV static - and he also understood that this was very, very bad.

“You know,” the general said, “I feel as if now is a most opportune time to confess; I never did like you. And frankly, I blame the  _ both _ of you for making my time on your planet an absolute living hell.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Stinky called from her glass prison.

“Which is particularly why-” His amber eyes practically glowed, and that unnerving, sharp-toothed smile of his grew wider than it ever had since his arrival. “-I am going to  _ enjoy _ killing you  _ very _ much.”

Unbeknownst to General Skun-ka’pe, while he had been monologuing, the brain in the tank, though severely weakened, mustered up enough strength to take control of the ship himself, and albeit somewhat slowly, he managed to lower the ship, positioning it right in front of the now puzzled, eighty-foot lagomorph creature, and slowly spun it around.

Skun-ka’pe did not notice the Maimtron that was coming towards them at full tilt and undoubtedly going to crash into them, but Sam did. And so, with his shaky, beaten form, and his trembling voice, the dog spoke up. “Hey, Skunkape.”

The gorilla merely looked both puzzled and annoyed. The amphibian-like beast - Max - was suddenly aware of what was about to happen, and was already lunging to try and stop it - or at least keep it from doing as much damage as it could-

Sam smirked triumphantly. “Might wanna watch where you’re driving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter comes out July 30th!


	23. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

The Superego looked on as the infectious tumour disintegrated away, the Dark matter vaporizing and vanishing into the thin air in a puff of blackened smoke. The dark roots that had planted themselves along the wall broke and crumbled away like dust, falling and littering the floor, before, too, fading away.

He must confess, he had taken his time in using the toy automation which he possessed. He had bided his time, striving to see if he could not wait for Sam to survive his endeavour. Unfortunately, he could not, as the last thing he had witnessed through his host’s eyes was the fiery explosion that had occurred, which, had he continued to hesitate, would have likely killed the creature, seeing as he had decided to use his whole torso to block the blast from causing nearly as much destruction as it would have.

It was suffice to say it likely would have taken out a decent part of the city, otherwise.

The man found himself gasping, having felt a stinging sensation in his hand, which had prompted him to drop the Chthonic Destroyer, the toy clanking as it hit the floor. He stared at the object with a bewildered yet inquisitive expression. It appeared that a sort of light was coming from the robot - or, rather, it was consuming it, breaking it down to its very molecules and setting them adrift to the air, only to fade away just as the remnants of the tumour had.

He blinked once, then turned his gaze to his surroundings. As well, the walls appeared to be alight, the wallpaper peeling, the furniture looking as if it were set ablaze. It seemed that whatever force had allowed these constructs to exist in the first place had now decided that there would no longer be room for them once Maximiliano awakened, and thus was removing them accordingly.

He figured that if there were ever a better time to return to his room, now would be it, and so he took one step back before grabbing the handle, then turning and entering, the door giving a soft click once it had shut. He cautiously backed away from it just for good measure, though he had yet to be sure whether it would help him in the short term. For all he was aware, that light could just as well devour his space and swallow him whole, returning him back to nothing more than a concept, and to his original place in the subconscious.

His musing was interrupted, however, by the sound of a sharp intake of breath, which had startled him into turning his focus over in the direction it came from. At once, he saw Sam, who was now clutching the table, hunched over and coughing so harshly, the man almost dared to think he would hack up a lung.

“Sam-!” he exclaimed quietly, before hurrying over to the canine, extending a hand as to place it between his shoulder blades, his brows furrowed with concern for his current health as Sam continued coughing. “Easy, now…” he murmured.

Once the dog had managed to get past the worst of his fit, he was left only with wheezing breaths. “You-” he started saying, pausing after the word only to catch his breath. “You’re still here.”

“I am. And,” he added, “I am here to stay.”

Sam looked at him with wide eyes, looking more awake than ever despite the lines of exhaustion on his features, and could not stop himself from giving a small  _ ‘ha’ _ as he gave a joyous smile, to which the man returned with a small one of his own. Both of their smiles, however, ended up fading once Sam seemed to nearly fall over, one of his knees buckling suddenly, forcing the dog to brace himself on the desk that the projector was placed on. 

The man could see, however, that he was at risk of toppling over even then, and so he brought over his other hand and used it to help support the canine. His brows furrowed deeper upon hearing the shallow, wheezing breaths that Sam was taking, and thus said, “Perhaps you should take a seat…”

Sam almost seemed too fatigued to verbally respond, but nodded in agreement. He then led Sam over to his desk, and - with some difficulty, given the size difference - managed to safely sit him down in the chair, the dog flopping back in it with a long, trembling sigh, as if he had been in pain and only now he was finding relief. Which, quite frankly, he had a hard time believing that that was not the case.

As he decided to seat himself on the edge of the desk, the dog remained still, breathing deeply through his nose, his eyes shut tight. His eyes suddenly, yet slowly, opened his eyes, his gaze lowering to what the man had assumed was the floor. That was until Sam lifted a slightly shaky hand - and the Superego could not stop himself from exhaling at the sight of that consuming light beginning to spread on Sam’s fingertips, and slowly inching its way down.

“What...what’s happening t’ me?” Sam asked. He did not sound frightened or alarmed, nor did he appear to be - he seemed merely puzzled, with a confused furrow of his brow.

The man was hesitant to answer, but supposed that it would be more cruel if he did not. “With the tumour gone, the mind appears to be expunging anything that does not belong in it. Which seems to include the Chthonic Destroyer, and…”

“...Me,” Sam finished for him. The Superego paused, but nodded. “...I’m dying.” It was no question - he spoke it with the utmost certainty.

“I was not aware that you would still be here,” the man said quietly. “I did not account for…” He went quiet, then sighed, shutting his eyes in regret.

“What about you?” the dog inquired, making him open his eyes in surprise and confusion.

“...What about me?”

“I know ya’ said anything that doesn’t belong, but...are you goin’ t’ be okay?”

He continued to stare at the canine, almost baffled by the fact that he was made aware of his inevitable demise and yet asking if  _ he _ was going to be okay. And, truthfully, he had no idea - for, again, there was the possibility that his very awareness would be stripped from him. But the way that Sam was looking up at him prompted him to say, “Yes. This is where I belong. I will be okay.”

Sam maintained eye contact with him, before his eyes fell, half-lidded. “That’s good,” was all he said.

The man could tell that something was amiss with him. His eyes seemed distant, clouded by thought. "...You're scared," he said, "I can tell."

The dog, however, shook his head. "I'm not."

"It's okay if you are-"

"I'm not scared of dyin'. I've been dead before, remember?"

"This isn't like that."

"I know, but I..." He trailed off, and his lowered gaze turned to the arm which he had first spotted the light spreading, which had now already crept up to his elbow.

"...Does it hurt?" the Superego inquired.

"No," the dog answered. "It's just numb, it...it's just my luck, y'know?"

"What is?"

"I finally...finally understand what was happening between us - happening with you - and it's right before I get myself killed." 

The man looked at him, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then looked to the floor instead.

Sam did not pay any mind - his own gaze was staring up at the pitch black ceiling now, though with the look in his eye, he could have just as well been looking right past it somehow. He shook his head slightly, and murmured, "I don't know how it ever took me this long t' catch on. The signs were all right there." The man still remained silent. Sam sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes, his brows furrowing. "...I really am just a stupid fuckin' dog."

"No, you're not," the Superego said sharply at once - and was, frankly, saddened by the fact that the canine snapped his eyes open and looked at him in surprise as much as he was saddened by him repeating that cruel statement he- Max- ...he had made. "I never should have said that to you."

"...You were just angry-" Sam started saying, but cut himself off when the man leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, I was angry, and I was hurt, but that's no excuse to hurt you, too. And it pains me to know that I've done that to you, because- ...because I know you trusted me, and would never think of me doing so. And I'm sorry that I broke that trust."

Sam looked back at him, his expression almost appearing blank, the light now reaching up to his jawline. That was up until tears began welling in his eyes, to which his expression threatened to contort into one of pure grief, though he was obviously trying to restrain his emotions. "...I don't wanna go," he whispered. "I just started gettin' things right. I don't wanna leave yet."

The Superego watched with remorse as the canine before him broke down into soft sobs, his heart breaking at the sight. With his one hand still on Sam's shoulder, he reached his other hand and gently placed it on Sam's cheek, making him pause, hiccuping quietly, to look up at the man. Their gaze lingered, before Sam shut his eyes and placed a hand over the man's, tears trailing down.

The two remained still like that for what felt like a long time, with the man only being able to watch helplessly as the light mercilessly continued to spread. He could tell eventually, however, that Sam was not going to even last long enough for it to take him, for the lines of exhaustion of the face grew deeper, his breathing grew shallower, and the hand he had placed over his was now more likely to suddenly fall limp. Yet, he could tell that at the same time, he was fighting to stay with the Superego as long as he could.

Eventually, the man felt inclined to let the dog’s suffering continue no longer, and so, with a stroke of his thumb along his tear-stained cheek, he murmured, “You’ve done so much, Sam. You’ve come so far just to save me...I think, perhaps, you should rest.”

“But...if I rest, then...you’ll be alone...you  _ can’t _ be...alone…Not again...”

“Let  _ us _ worry about that.” He was referring to himself and Max. “We will find a way to set things right.” He shifted his hand slightly so that he was scratching just behind Sam’s ear. “Just rest. You’ll be awake again before you know it…”

Sam stared back at him with bleary eyes that grew more distant with each passing moment - yet, the man could see that there was resignation in them, and could see that Sam knew that continuing to fight would not do him any favours. At last, the dog inhaled deeply and shakily, then exhaled.

His eyes shut.

His hand fell onto the arm of the chair.

And he did not take another breath.

The man remained still, staring at him, and watching as the light flowed off of the dog’s person, like fireflies drifting off into the night air. 

He removed his hand from his cheek - only to find that the light had attached itself to it. He observed it with a cool indifference, then looked toward the door. Surely enough, the light that had been consuming the living room outside had finally reached it, and was now devouring the door with the gold floral patterns, and creeping along the walls.

“Guess there will not be a ‘we’ after all,” the Superego said to someone who was beyond his reach yet incredibly close at the same time. He got up from the desk and faced the oncoming, blinding light, readjusting his suit jacket by the lapels, before folding his arms neatly behind his back. “It will be all up to you, now-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 24 will be up August 4th!


	24. Sam and Max

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is gone - but Max won't allow the story to end without him.

~~ -Max. ~~

The lagomorph's eyes shot right open with a sharp inhale, as if he had been nearly drowning underwater and only now was he at the surface and able to draw breath. His breaths were even and quiet - the only noise that filled his ears, the rest of the world seeming to have been muted.

The first thing he did was raise his unsteady hands to his eyes, staring at the back of his fuzzy little white paws, then turning them so his palms were facing him, his adorable pink paw pads still clear as day.

He touched his face, patting all over his melon-shaped head, before bringing his hands down to his torso, patting just beneath his chest, his stomach, his sides. He brought his hands back up and placed two fingers at the base of his ears, then dragged them all the way up to the very tips of them.

Finally, he sat up, a blank expression on his face. "I'm...me again," he mumbled quietly, sounding almost shocked by the revelation. Slowly but surely, however, a big, wide grin spread on his face. "I'm me again!" he exclaimed, absolutely overjoyed.

He practically jumped to his feet, and whooped as he binkied around, hopping up and down, flapping his hands, his cheers eventually turning into purely ecstatic laughter.

"Yeah-ha-ha! Suck on  _ THAT _ , ya' stupid Toybox!" he shouted to the skies, his voice echoing against the buildings. He eventually stopped hopping around, though he was still bouncing on his feet as he said, "Sam, ya' did it! I'm me again, ya' did it!" When there was nothing but silence as his response, Max found his bouncing ceasing entirely, though his smile still remained present, although growing unsure. "...Heh - Sam? C'mon, you- you did it! We can go home now. We..."

His voice trailed off when he'd finally noticed what was in the distance ahead of him - a large pile of broken, twisted, burning metal. There was even a fragment of a Maimtron arm. Max's eyes went wide, and he slowly began turning around to view his surroundings. He soon found that he was in the middle of a large, smoking circle, surrounded by this destroyed and barely destroyed scrap metal.

Suddenly, it came back to him - the Maimtron crashing straight into the ship, him lunging forward and using his body to shield the blast from doing harm before being blinded by a light then falling unconscious.

Sam...Sam had been on the-

"Oh no," he said quietly. "No, no, no,  _ NO!  _ **_SAM!_ ** " He sprinted towards the ruined metal, running as fast as his legs could take him and practically crashed into the pile of broken bits once he got to it. " _ SAM! _ " he yelled, beginning to grab ahold of whatever he could and tossing it aside, desperately trying to dig out his lifelong friend and partner. “Sam, can- can ya’ hear me!? Speak t’ me!  _ SAM! _ ”

He was practically hyperventilating as he clawed through the wreckage, his eyes flitting this way and that - before his hands retracted in surprise, gasping, upon seeing Sam’s hat, beaten, singed, but still intact - but not attached to anyone.

His heart pounded in his chest, his trembling hands reaching for the hat. He grabbed it, and pulled it from the rubble. Some of the metal shifted when he pulled it free, but he didn’t pay it any mind, for he was too focused on the hat in his hands, staring at it. His vision eventually began to blur, his eyes growing wet-

And he gave a high pitched cry at the very top of his lungs, falling to his knees before hugging the hat close to his chest, and bawling so hard, it was shaking his whole rib cage. He inhaled shakily, trying to suck in as much air in his lungs as he could, and sobbed, “ _ Saaam… _ ”

This was his fault. He did this. If he hadn’t turned into a damn monster, Sam would be here. If Sam hadn’t tried to save him, he’d have still been here. Dammit, why did Sam have to go and try to  _ save him!? _

His grieving cries soon turned to that of anger, and he found himself getting to his feet and dropping the hat, only to pick up some of the twisted steel he had tossed aside, and slammed it back onto the ground with an enraged yell. He picked up what looked to be a fragment of the Maimtron’s leg, and started slamming it against the pile, as if trying to destroy it himself.

“HOW COULD YA’ DO THIS T’ ME, SAM!?” he shouted. “HOW COULD YA’ LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE THIS!? THIS ISN’T  _ FAIR! _ IT SHOULD BE  _ ME _ DEAD, NOT  _ YOU! _ ”

After making that last statement, he had turned and thrown the leg fragment as far as he could, watching it fly through the air before eventually clanging against the busted concrete. Max breathed deeply in his anger, and eventually looked down- and gasped, clasping his hands over his mouth as he realized he’d stepped on Sam’s hat.

“Oh- oh, no,” he said quietly, quickly getting his foot off of it and getting to his knees again to scoop it up. “I didn’t mean it,” he murmured as he hugged it to his chest again, feeling his tears clinging to his chin, and shutting his eyes - even stroking the hat as if it were Sam’s head. “I didn’t…”

...This couldn’t be. Sam  _ couldn’t _ be gone. It wasn’t fair. He’d done so much just to save Max - he couldn’t be dead.  _ Shouldn’t _ be! It wasn’t  _ fair! _ Sam wasn’t allowed to go without him!  _ It wasn’t  _ **_fair!_ **

When Max opened his eyes, they were glowing, and without even realizing he had used his teleportation - without even knowing he  _ could  _ without the Toys of Power - he found himself sitting on a rug, in an area that he knew he recognized, but couldn’t with his current lack of focus. His ears twitched, however, upon hearing voices.

“...That should do it,” came Mama Bosco’s voice from down below, which made his ears straighten. “At least until we can get you to a hospital.”

Hearing her had prompted Max to scramble to the edge of the platform and look down. He saw the scientist, without her lab coat, standing in front of Flint, who was sitting on the table with a makeshift sling. There was also a beat up Sam clone wearing a cone standing nearby.

“Thanks,” the detective said. “I wouldn’t really sweat the hospital thing too much - not like I haven’t broken a bone or two in the past.”

“With the utmost respect, Flint, I wasn’t exactly asking. You’re  _ going _ to the hospital as soon as you can whether you think you’re good or not.”

“Fair enough.”

The lagomorph tilted his head, confused as to why his powers would bring him here, but then his ears perked in realization, his eyes going wide and his mouth slightly agape. He then called, "Mama Bosco!"

Her and Flint seemed startled by his voice, and both of them immediately started looking around for the source before Flint looked up and noticed him, a wide smile appearing on his face at once. "Max!"

Mama Bosco followed his gaze, and turned around, spotting Max. "Max! Is that you?"

Impatient to get to them, Max decided to skip the elevator ride and just hop over the ledge, falling for a second before landing right on his feet and running towards them. The lady gave a joyous laugh, and once he was in her arms reach, she knelt down and opened her arms, and pulled him into a hug, which he gladly returned. Flint hopped off the table, and despite only having one arm to use freely, managed to wrap his free one around his old friend as well.

"You're alright!" Mama Bosco said between laughs, practically on the verge of tears.

"Jesus, pal," Flint said, "I never thought I'd see you a-" Max pulled away mid-sentence to flash them a grin, and at once, both Flint and Mama Bosco's expression changed to that of surprise. "-gain..."

Max's smile faded at their reaction. "...What?"

The scientist and detective exchanged a glance, then looked back at him. "Nothing," Mama Bosco said with a forced smile.

"No, what is it? Is there somethin' in my teeth? I have been eatin' a lotta things that get in the gums lately-"

"No," Flint said, "It's not that, just, uh..." He tapped his cheek in thought, raising a brow. "Have you...always had those sp-"

Mama Bosco lightly nudged him with her elbow, and gave him a look that made it clear that now was not really the time to draw attention to it. He closed his mouth, and she looked back at Max. "Where's Sam?" she asked, "Is he okay?"

Max looked back at her, then looked down, saddened. "He's..."

She furrowed her brows, already worried by that reaction, but then she followed his gaze and gasped quietly upon seeing Sam's hat in his hands, putting a hand over her mouth, then placed it on her chest. "Oh no..."

Flint had spotted it too. "Sam..." he said quietly, then frowned and stood up. "Dammit! He said he'd stay out of trouble-!" His voice had broken on the last word.

Despite his thoughts momentarily being clouded by his grief again, he shook his head to clear it, then looked at the lady and said, "I need your machine. The one that brought you back."

"What?" she said - not out of disbelief but out of surprise. 

"I can bring him back! I know I can! He’s not gone, I just know he isn’t- if we can just get him into a new body-”

“Whoa, hey, hon, slow down,” the lady hushed, gently putting her hands on his shoulders, seeing that he was so worked up he was practically hyperventilating. Not that she could blame the poor guy. “Look, we can  _ try _ , okay? We can definitely try. But in order to do that, I have to find him first-”

“We’ll find him!” Max said certainly. “I know we will!”

“We’ll see,” was all she could say. 

As much as she would have loved to be optimistic and hopeful and encouraging, the truth was she was looking around and unable to spot any sign of Sam around. Even as a ghost, she herself had at least been able to be visible, so if Sam couldn’t even do  _ that _ , then...she had a bad feeling that this was going to go poorly. 

Hopefully that feeling ended up being wrong.

The scientist patted Max’s shoulder, and said, “Just hang tight. I’ll fire it up right now.”

The lagomorph watched as she stood up and walked away. He then looked at the hat in his hands, and hugged it close to him again. Flint, noticing his desperation, approached him again, and placed his good hand on Max’s shoulder. “We’ll get ‘im back,” the man reassured, making Max look up at him. “Sam’s tough. We’ll find ‘im.”

Max’s gaze fell to the hat once more, murmuring, “Yeah…” There was a brief silence, then he looked up at Flint again with a raised brow. “Um...what were you goin’ t’ ask me?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘did you always have those-’ then stopped. What were you gonna ask?”

Flint bit his lip in uncertainty, his gaze flickering over in Mama Bosco’s direction. Seeing that she was well distracted, he looked back at Max. “You, uh...you didn’t always have  _ spots _ on ya’, did you?”

“Did I what now.”

. . .

The rubble remained still, completely unmoving. And then there was a twitch in the pile. Then a metal piece practically leapt in the air before flopping back down. Finally, that same metal piece got shoved aside, falling down the pile and skittering onto the pavement, and out of its spot climbed out Girl Stinky, whose hair was a complete and utter mess, bruises and scratches covering several parts of her body, a thin trail of blood coming from her nose and mouth and covered in ash.

Not unscathed - but not  _ dead _ either. As it turned out, being in a glass cell while the whole friggin’ place was going down had its advantages.

With a little effort, she managed to get herself out of the debris, several broken steel pieces falling away and clanging against each other as she did so. She half-stumbled down the heap but managed to balance herself once her feet - one of which was missing a shoe - touched the concrete.

Her teal eyes scanned the wreckage around her, and while she certainly intended on heading back to the house as soon as possible, she just had to make sure of one thing, first.

She began digging through the mess thoroughly, the intention of finding something set in her mind. For the most part, it was just metal, metal and more metal - most of which was charred and twisted and completely beyond repair. She did, however, pause upon spotting what looked to be some sort of black disc-shaped thing with broken glass poking out of it, and could only guess it had been part of that brain’s tank.

Kid never really stood a chance, she supposed. However, if she could find what she was looking for, then his demise would have, hopefully, well been worth it.

She continued searching, until eventually she found a spot of white amongst the remains of the ship and the robot that had collided with it. She tilted her head, and lifted aside a fragment to reveal a hand.

Skun-ka’pe’s hand, specifically.

She attempted to pull him out by his wrist, but between his weight, the weight on top of him and her current lacking in her usual strength, she couldn’t. She eventually decided to just drop his hand, letting the forearm she had managed to drag out flop onto the pile. She knelt down, and bent his hand back enough so that she had access to his wrist, and placed her fingertips over it.

She did not feel a heartbeat - and she was glad for it. The last thing she needed was him coming back to try and bite her in the ass again. And with that, she abandoned him, and took off, leaving the remnants of the destruction behind her, wiping her nose and mouth with her thumb as she did so.

Just as the sun's rays were shining through, the long night starting to finally melt away to make room for the morning, there was a soft click of a door opening, which echoed through the empty halls, as did the sound of the door creaking open. Upon entering, she shut it behind her.

She had not entered this house in quite a while - though, for how long, she couldn't remember. She had never come back to it after her grandfather had died, seeing as she felt that it was more his home than hers - and she had continued to stay away even after he had returned. However, despite it not being her home in her mind, she had figured it to be a suitable getaway place should the time come.

Well, given everything that had happened, she figured now was that time.

The girl immediately went to the room that was considered 'hers', which, aside from the odd decoration on the shelf, was as empty as anywhere else in the house was. She got to her knees and peered under her bed, which held dust, cobwebs - and a bookbag she had stuck under there a long time ago. She yanked it out, ignoring the grime on it. She'd clean it once she had the chance.

She swung open her closet and started shoving as many of her clothes in there as she could within reason, before shutting it with a thud. She collected her toothbrush from the bathroom. The kitchen seemed to be devoid of anything that she could take with her, so she left that.

Finally, to grab some money for the road.

She began to search every space that might house a stash, even tapping on the walls to see if they were hollowed out. Eventually, her search had led her to the old man's room, and she looked through his drawers and the space under his bed before finding himself at his closet, to which she immediately looked down at the floor where the laundry basket sat.

She dropped the book bag and got to her knees, sliding the basket aside to reveal the entrance to the storage room below. Figuring down there was as good a place to look as any, she opened it up and climbed down.

She continued her search, digging through various boxes and opening drawers with no luck. Eventually, however, she had found a box of framed pictures, and upon removing them, she had admittedly done a double take at the one that sat on top of them all, and picked it up. It was a picture of Grandpa Stinky, holding a much younger her - and yet she could still remember the day this photo had been taken...

She promptly decided that her search was a lost cause, abandoned the photo and got out of the storage room.

She finally found herself in the basement, with stairs that led to a cellar door, which led to the outside. The plan was to get to the diner quickly and take one of the- well...she supposed the sewer was the only real option now. The safer one anyway.

Just as she set foot on the first stair, she heard a man say behind her, "Goin' somewhere?"

Admittedly shocked, Stinky turned around to see her grandfather standing just behind her. Sneaky bastard - he must have come in while she was in the storage room. "How the hell are you alive?"

"Hell if Ah know. Ah don't remember shite."

"Then why did you come here?"

"'Cause Ah figured ye'd be here." To that, she didn't respond. He looked down at the bag in her hand, which she held by the strap. "Found everythin' ye were lookin' for?"

"What do you care?" she asked sharply. When she received no answer from him, she continued, “What is this, the part where you pretend to actually give a shit? The part where you pretend to be offended by me doing this, telling me about ‘how much you do for me’? Huh!? Is that it!?”

“Aw, hell, ye really think Ah have the patience t’  _ fake _ shit more than Ah have to? Much less just t’, what, make ye feel better?”

“Then  _ why _ did you-”

“T’ make sure ye were  _ alive _ , ye goon,” he interrupted. “That last damned thing Ah remember was ye gettin’  _ attacked _ -”

“ _ Are _ you here to stop me or not?” she finally asked, her patience growing thin with this conversation.

“No,” he answered. The lack of hesitation, admittedly, made her blink in surprise. “Frankly, ye’ve ran off so many times, Ah cannae say Ah ever expect ye t’ come back any time ye do.” She didn’t say anything. “If yer aboot to, though, Ah’d make sure that’s a decision yer willin’ t’ live with. ‘Cause fact is, ye run now, yer probably not gonna be able t’ come back this time.”

She wasn’t looking at him - she was staring at the floor. She turned her head back to the stairs, her gaze trailing up them and to the basement door above. She could do it. She could just leave and not even blink an eye. She could go and not even  _ think _ about what she was leaving. It would be so easy...and yet she found herself dropping the bag on the floor, and saying, “...We don’t run. It doesn’t get anything done.”

The old man didn’t say anything for a moment, then said, “Assumin’ that detective’s alive, Ah suspect he’ll come back t’ ask some questions.”

“Let him.” She looked at him with those teal eyes of hers, and said, “I’ll be ready.”

Grandpa Stinky, for all of his bitter, stubborn demeanour, couldn’t help but crack the slightest smile, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly. “That’s my girl.”

. . .

Max had been staring at himself in the reflective metal surface of one of Mama Bosco’s machines for a few minutes now, and was currently baring his now jagged, needle-like teeth, carefully running a tongue over them before shutting his mouth and staring at his face, which now possessed bright pink eyes and green spots which, while there were few of them, were impossible to miss. He had already figured that it was a side effect of being turned back to normal- er… _ ’normal’ _ \- but it was still a little baffling. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it just yet, honestly.

His attention was drawn away, however, from the sound of a dog whimpering, and he glanced over in the direction of the dog clone that was cowering slightly - and who only cowered more when the lagomorph's eyes fell on him.

"Don't take it personally," Flint spoke, making Max's ear twitch before he looked over at him. "He's just a li'l jumpy."

"It  _ is _ personal, though," Max murmured.

The man paused. "...You remember?"

"Bits and pieces," he admitted, and scratched the side of his head with a finger as he continued, "I...kinda recall using some dog as my personal, furry toothpick."

Flint grunted, grimacing a bit. "Well...don't take it too hard, then. It wasn't you doin' that, yeah?"

"...Yeah." Except it had been him doing that. Even if it wasn't him in his clearest state of mind, it was still him. He put those people to sleep, he destroyed those people's homes. Whether he meant it or not, it was him that those people were afraid of, and with good reason-

"I'm serious," Flint said, noticing how Max's eyes lowered to the floor. "Don't beat yourself up over this."

"Eh, you're right," the lagomorph mumbled. "I got more important things t' worry about - like bringin' Sam! Speakin' of which-" He turned and looked towards Mama Bosco, who had been standing and tapping away at a machine panel for a while now. "'Ey, doc, how's it lookin'?"

She didn't respond at first, and Max had almost been inclined to think that maybe she either didn't hear or was simply preoccupied with trying to save his best friend. However, eventually she said, "I can't find him."

Max's heart skipped a beat, his ears drooping back slightly. "...What?"

The scientist paused, then sighed through her nose, and turned to look at him. "He's not showing up on the radar."

"...W-Well, run it again! Maybe he's just-"

"I've  _ been _ running it this whole time, Max. I must've ran it six times by now. He just..." She shook her head. "Isn't here."

"But he has to be!" Max came up beside her, looking up at the screen that was, in fact, blank. "He would never just leave!"

"He might not have a choice. The afterlife is complex - he may not be able to appear on this plane-"

"No!" he snapped, tears beginning to well up in his eyes again. "Dammit, he can't just be gone, he has t' be somewhere - I'll drag him out myself if I have to!"

The woman placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry, hon...I just simply have no clue where he is."

And just like that, as if right on cue, a light - though small - appeared on the screen.

Flint had been the first one to notice it. "Whoa, hey- Mama Bosco, look!"

At once, both her and Max looked at the screen and at the light, and Max gasped. "Oh my God," the scientist murmured. She immediately retracted her hand from Max's shoulder and leaned both hands against the panel's surface, squinting at the location of the light. "It's coming from...in here?"

At hearing that, Max instantly whirled around to face the mostly empty lab, and yelled, " _ SAM! _ Sam, where are you?"

"Sam, you there, pal?" Flint called.

"He might not be able to show himself or answer," Mama Bosco said, and added under her breath, "Though, he is giving off some pretty odd waves right now..."

Max looked at her, and said, "Maybe he just needs a li'l help!" He turned back, and said, "C'mon, Sam, you can do it!"

"Can we get him in a body?" Flint asked Mama Bosco while the lagomorph continued to call.

"I can't make him a new one," she replied, "If there was anything in any of those cloning chambers I could use, I can't really use it right this second."

"...What about him?" The detective nodded his head towards 'Sammy'. "Could he do?"

She followed his gaze, and hesitated to answer. "...Guess there's not much other choice, is there?" 

  
  


"Guys, look!" Max said suddenly, "There he is!"

Both of them looked over - and looked in shock and awe at the faint wisps of blue energy that had materialized in the lab, vaguely taking on the shape of none other than the dog himself. “Holy shit,” Flint murmured. “It’s really him.”

“See if you can tell him to get into the chamber, Max,” Mama Bosco instructed, moving towards ‘Sammy’.

Max turned back to the blue aura that was his friend, and said, “Mama Bosco’s gonna help ya’ the way we helped her, alright? She’s gonna get ya’ into a body! Just hang tight, alright?”

The scientist was now gently guiding the dog clone towards the chamber, being careful to keep him from bumping into anything or tripping over himself - after all, the cone did block some of his view. 

“Alright, Sammy,” she said once she had him standing in front of it, reaching a hand to press a button on the machine. “I’m gonna ask you to do me this one last favour, alright?” The door opened with a  _ woosh. _ She put both her hands on his shoulders, and said, “I’m gonna need you to step in there and wait. Can you do that for me?”

‘Sammy’ responded by wagging his tail.

Mama Bosco found it too darn endearing not to smile, and gave him a small pat on the head. “You’re a good boy. Never forget that.” She then placed a hand on his back, and said, “Go on, now. In you go.”

The clone did as he had been instructed, and stepped inside, turning around to face her before she shut the door on him.

“Not gonna lie,” she said as she approached the panel, “I’m gonna miss him.” She began tapping away at the keys on the panel, the screen flashing different colours on the display before the light that signaled Sam’s presence turned into a proper heat signature - one that she noticed looked almost  _ hotter _ than hers had been, somehow. She supposed she’d have to look into that some other time. She then looked towards the lagomorph, and said, “Max.”

"That's your cue, Sam!" Max said cheerfully. The faint form that was Sam seemed to flicker for a moment, as if he was moving but the motion itself was delayed, before vanishing into the thin air. Max turned back to the lady and asked, "Is he goin' in?"

"Looks like it," she replied, her eyes fixated on the screen. Her fingers continued to tap against the keys on the panel, and eventually she said, "That should do it. This should only take a moment..."

The machine began to whir, at first quietly then louder, the mechanisms inside working hard to fuse spirit to flesh and bone. Max stood in front of it, his fists clenched in anticipation. Mama Bosco and Flint stood behind him, staring at the chamber as well. Eventually, the machine ceased in its whirring, and the lab seemed to fall completely silent.

The door opened with a faint hiss. When it slid open, smoke poured out, and the chamber sparked for a moment, and...

"Urgh- dammit," the dog muttered, stumbling out, having to brace himself against the machine. "Can't see a damn thing-"

"Sam!" Max exclaimed, a wide, sharp-toothed smile on his face.

Sam's ears perked at hearing the lagomorph's voice. "Max?" He began glancing around, attempting to see his friend but unable to. "Where are ya'? I can't see-!"

In response to his question, Max proceeded to run up towards him, and climbed him, scrambling up until his feet were on Sam's shoulders, and without hesitation, placed a kiss right on the dog's muzzle, making Sam's eyes widen in surprise, before shutting them peacefully, only opening them only once Max had pulled away.

"Here I am," the lagomorph said teasingly.

Sam laughed softly, lifting his head up more to get a better look at him. "There ya' are."

Max's gentle smile widened, and he leaned back in, his lips pressing against Sam's, who lifted a hand and placed it on Max's back.

While the two shared their tender moment, Mama Bosco placed a hand on Flint's shoulder, making him look over at him, and said quietly, "Maybe we should give them a little privacy."

"Good idea," he murmured back, allowing her to guide him out of the room.

The dog and lagomorph's smooch continued to linger, but as the elevator lowered, Max's ear twitched, and he waited for the sound of it rising again before he finally pulled back. 

"We can never seem t' keep a crowd," Max commented in amusement. Sam hummed, equally as amused, but when he frowned, the lagomorph did too. "...Sam?"

"...I'm so sorry." Sam gave a wet sniff, with a small exhale, his eyes growing wet. "I treated you like trash, and I'm so,  _ so _ sorry-"

Max shushed him gently, placing a hand just under his ear so that he was scratching the back of it. Although sobbing quietly, Sam was calmed by the touch. "I remember what ya' said to... _ that _ part o' me," he confessed. "And...I'm sorry too. For gettin' angry, and makin' ya' feel like...well, shit. And for what it's worth, I...love ya' too." He rubbed a thumb over the dog's ear. "Very much..."

Sam sniffed again, and gave a weak laugh, lifting his other arm up so that he was holding Max. "You realize I'm never lettin' ya' go after this, right? You're stuck with me forever now."

The lagomorph's sharp-toothed grin returned. "Well, that's alright, because you're never getting rid of me!" He repositioned himself so that he was hugging his arms around Sam's neck- and the dog hissed in pain, prompting Max to pull away quickly. "Shit- you good?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a laugh, "Just a, uh- touch tender." Max smiled apologetically, but wrapped his arms back around the dog gently, pressing his face into his shoulder. "...I've missed you so much, li'l buddy."

"Yeah. Same with you, Sam."

The two remained like that for a few moments, before Sam shivered. "Hey, uh-" Max pulled away to look at him. "Not t' ruin the moment here, but y' think that we could, uh- take this somewhere...warmer? It's a li'l drafty in here."

"Welcome t' my world," Max teased, earning an amused hum from the dog. "Yeah, sure. Oh! But before we do-" He hopped down from Sam for a moment to pick up the hat he dropped in his excitement, and climbed back up to put it on his boyfriend's head. "There. Now you're just a tiny bit less naked."

"Thanks, Max. Now if you could help me navigate-"

"Of course!"

With assistance from Max - and even then, Sam still bumped into a wall or two on the way up - they eventually made it up to the apartment room Sam and Flint had been staying in. "Not the coziest lookin' place, I know," Sam commented.

"Better than the couch."

"Fair point."

The lagomorph wiggled from Sam's grip to go and hop on the bed, reaching out to take Sam's outstretched and searching hand, assisting him in getting onto the bed. After a little time spent struggling just to get one leg up, the dog eventually decided to flop over on his side with a small grunt, his hat flopping off in the process.. Max giggled a little, crawling up the bed until he was by Sam's head. "Hey," he said, picking up the hat and placing it back so that it wasn't laying on its side.

"Hey yourself." Max proceeded to flop himself onto his side as well, and once he did, Sam raised a hand and placed Max's head, running a thumb over the new markings that had formed. "So...spots, huh?"

"Guess so," he said, then added jokingly, "Pretty sexy, huh?"

Sam poked his head forward so that his and Max's noses were touching - since that was the most he could really do while like this - and replied with the utmost sincerity, "They're beautiful."

Max's heart swelled a bit at the compliment, smiling gently. "Thanks..." Sam's hand lowered from his head to his side, and Max reached out to rub the dog's ear. "...Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah, Max?"

"You wouldn't...happen t' remember what you were gonna say... _ before _ all this, would ya'? About what you said your plans were?"

Sam gave an amused smile. "Right now? I want nothin' more than t' rest here with you."

Max huffed lightly. "You're such a sap."

"Mhm. But I'm your sap. If you'll have me..."

The lagomorph moved a little closer to him, and placed a kiss right on top of the dog's head. "Of course I will." 

There were a few moments of silence - but just as Max was about to say Sam's name, the silence was broken by the sound of gentle snoring. Surely enough, upon looking, Max could see that Sam had his eyes shut, and was fast asleep. Poor guy - he was no doubt tuckered out from the past week. 

  
  


Max waited for a moment to make sure the dog was fully asleep before carefully wriggling out from under his arm, and repositioning himself so that he was hugging Sam's torso with both his arms and legs - and pressing his head to his chest in a way that would allow him to hear his heartbeat. He listened to the calm, quiet thumps of it, until he too drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (shoutout to callie for the incredibly epic pic of max kissin sam, its so pretty & cool........)
> 
> The 25th and final chapter of Another Way shall be posted August 9th!


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long, arduous week, Sam and Max decide they're better off taking a break after all.

As the late afternoon sun continued to shine through the closed curtains, Max found his eyes twitching for a moment before slowly opening them up. The very first thing he woke up to was Sam using his whole body to spoon him, still snoring quietly.

Max was almost inclined to shut his eyes and drift back off to sleep - that was until the phone in the room began to ring. Of course, Max's instinct was to immediately sit up and start yelling,  _ 'I got it! I got it!' _ However, when he attempted to swiftly sit up, only for the still sleeping dog to immediately pull him back down, he remembered that maybe now wasn't the best time. Instead, he carefully snuck his way out of Sam's arms, and eventually the dog stopped trying to hold him hostage and rolled over instead.

The lagomorph allowed an amused smile at the sight before getting off of the bed, making his way over to the still ringing phone, picking it up off the receiver and putting it to his ear.

"Heeello?" he greeted. "...Commissioner! Hey, haven't heard from ya' since the party! ...Me? No, I'm-I'm good...yeah, Sam's good, too. Well-" He glanced back at Sam, who was still asleep. "He's a li'l banged up. Got the cone of shame on," he joked quietly, laughing a bit. "Did ya'...need somethin'?" Pause. "Oh! Well, yeah. We, uh...we..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda had our work cut out for us in the past week...What was that? A...break?" He glanced towards his partner again, his brows furrowing slightly. "...Yeah. I think we do...I have no clue how long, no, but I-I'm sure I could talk t' Sam about it. Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks. Alright. Love ya’, bye." With that, he hung up.

"...Guess  _ you _ got it this time, eh?" Sam mumbled - half groggy, half playfully - which prompted to make Max look at him, ears twitching.

"I did. Weren't you asleep just a second ago?"

"Heard my name, thought you were talkin' t' me."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean t' wake ya'."

"Nah, don't be." He yawned, and said as he did so, "I would've woken up eventually anyway." Max briskly moved from the spot near the phone back over to the bed, hopping up and moving closer to Sam. "What was he sayin'?" he inquired.

"Askin' if we needed a break and for how long. Told 'im I'd talk t' you about it."

Sam hummed quietly while the lagomorph lightly played with his floppy ear. "Probably could do with one. I mean, the apartment's a wreck."

"Right."

"The DeSoto's been busted down to a bunch o' atoms."

"Right..."

"And my neck's feelin' about as sturdy as a stick o' Pocky, so yeah, some sorta break is definitely in order."

Max hummed in agreement. "Should definitely wait 'til two of those are fixed, I'd say."

"Yup."

"...Maybe we could even...skip town for a bit?"

Sam sat up with a small grunt in his throat to look him in the eye a little better. "What makes ya' say it like that?"

"It's just...eh, nevermind. It's not that big of a deal."

"Hey, c'mon." He placed a hand in Max's cheek, and said, "You can tell me. I'll listen."

Max's nose twitched for a moment at the last statement, and looking into the dog's eyes, he could see the attentiveness and sincerity. "I mean...everyone knows that monster was me, Sam. Whether they wanna admit it or not. I just think that gettin' away for a while might be good for everyone."

He was admittedly a little surprised when Sam shrugged and said, "Alright. If that's what you wanna do." He stroked a thumb over the fur on Max's cheek, which earned a quiet purr from the lagomorph. "Well, if goin' on a li'l vacation is what ya' want, ya' know who's always there."

Max understood at once. "Ya' think they'd be up t' drivin' out and pickin' us up?"

"Dad will be. He seems t' like the long drive."

"Right...maybe we should try t' pick up some of our crap while we're at it, too."

Sam opened his mouth to say 'Good idea', but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest thing he could to cover himself up with - which so happened to be Max. "You two awake in there?" came Mama Bosco's voice from the other side.

"We are!" Max replied cheerfully.

The door crept open and the lady, still without her lab coat, poked her head in before opening it fully, a paper bag in one hand and folded clothes tucked under her opposite arm. "You're up early," Sam joked.

"What can I say? A scientist never sleeps." she replied with a playful smile. "Anyway-" She put the paper bag on the side table' and said, "A bite to eat - you two must be starving - and-" She set the clothes on the nearby chair, "Clothes for you, Sam. Hopefully they fit."

"Thanks, Mama B!" the lagomorph replied. He then decided to wriggle out of Sam's hands to go peer into the paper bag. 

Sam grabbed a pillow to cover up instead. "Say, where's Flint at?"

"I dropped him off at a doctor's a while ago just to check out that broken arm of his. He's probably out by now, though, so who knows where he took off after that."

Oddly enough, Sam had a rough idea as to where he may be, but decided it was unnecessary to share. So all he said was, "Eh, I'm sure we'll bump into him eventually."

"You two got any plans for the day?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Probably gonna take off up t' Sam's parents' place," Max replied as he dug through the bag.

"Just for a li'l bit," Sam clarified. "Just until the city's a li'l more patched up and things are a li'l more back t' normal. Or at least as normal as things can get around here. We'll be back eventually, though."

"Well, that's good to hear. I'll leave you two to it, then - but if you need anything, I'll be here down in the lab, alright?"

"Alright. Take care of yourself, doc."

"You too, boys." With that, she exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

Max turned to look at Sam with a tin foil wrapped burger in hand, and said teasingly, "Ya' need me t' feed this to ya' like a li'l baby?"

The dog laughed a bit. "I think I'll ring up my parents first before I get into breakf- er...lunch, I guess."

"Alright," he replied, unwrapping the burger and taking a big bite into it while Sam got up and went over to the phone, dialling up the number before putting it on speaker.

The phone rang a few times before someone picked up. " _ Hello? _ " came a female voice.

"Hey, mom."

" _ Oh, Sam! So good to hear from you. How is everything? _ "

"Pretty good. Say, ya' mind if Max and I take a visit up there for a bit? And, uh...maybe pick us up, too? DeSoto's sorta...out of commission right now."

" _ Of course! I'll tell your father as soon as soon as he gets home. _ "

"Alright. See ya' in a bit."

" _ Love you! _ "

"Love ya' too, mom." The phone then clicked off upon her hanging up.

. . .

"Maybe we oughta make a couple o' pit stops before we go to the apartment," Max suggested as they exited the building.

"What makes ya' say that?" Sam - who was now sporting a blue shirt and some jeans, with his battered hat atop his head - asked as they turned onto the sidewalk, one hand holding Max's while the other was in his pocket.

"Might be a person or two who thinks we're dead. Like, for  _ realsies _ dead. I just think we oughta either make their day or crush their dreams."

"Well, I suppose whether they like or loathe us, we oughta say goodbye before takin' off. Say, maybe we could see if we can find Sybil and meet her bab-"

" _ YES! _ " Max exclaimed excitedly, startling Sam a little bit. " _ Yesyesyes _ \- can we!?"

The dog laughed in amusement. "'Course we can! We got time t' kill!"

" _ YeeeEEES! _ C'mon, let's go!!" He tugged on Sam's hand, and Sam freed his spare hand from his pocket to hold onto his hat as he was being pulled down the sidewalk.

"W-Wait, li'l buddy!" The lagomorph stopped in his tracks, looking at Sam with a puzzled expression. "I still owe her a gift basket for the office-"

"Oh, right, duh! Okay, let's grab that, then go straight to her..."

. . .

They eventually found themselves walking through the hospital halls to the room Sybil was in (although not after the front desk lady asked if they were sure that they weren't there to check Sam in), with Max being the one to hold the basket since Sam was worried about accidentally dropping it. It contained some standard gift basket things - chocolate, soap, what have you - as well as some baby things that Max insisted on picking up.

As they walked through the halls, they eventually found themselves bumping into their agent friend. " _ Heeey _ , Superball!" Max greeted.

"Mr. President," Superball said with a small smile, stopping in his tracks once he got closer to them. "You're alive." He looked at Sam, and added, "As are you, sir."

"Yeah, might have t' drop the 'President' shtick soon enough," the lagomorph said. "Not sure if anyone's gonna be too happy 'bout their leader of their country turnin' into a giant monster."

"Hasn't stopped any president before, sir." Max gave a laugh at that.

"What brings you here, Superball?" Sam inquired.

"I came here to break the news to miss Pandemik that her husband has been arrested."

Both the dog and lagomorph blinked at that, exchanging a glance before looking back at the agent. "Seriously?" Max asked.

"Yes. On top of that, he'll likely be imprisoned for a fair amount of time."

"For, what, disobeying a government official's direct orders?" Sam said.

"Tax evasion, actually."

"Huh."

"Looking into his lengthy honeymoon, we have reason to believe he may have been purposely avoided paying his dues."

Sam and Max exchanged another glance - a knowing one - but upon looking back at Superball, Max merely said, "Well, good riddance. Guy should've stayed inanimate anyhow."

"How'd Sybil take it?" Sam asked.

"She took it well," Superball answered. "Actually, she looked relieved. I suspect the rift between her and her husband goes a little deeper than a couple's spat."

"Yeah, well, trying to kill your wife's friend may do that to ya'." Upon Sam saying that, he felt the lagomorph give a small squeeze of his hand.

"I see you have a gift there for her, so I'll let you be on your way." The agent then walked past them, starting to leave.

"Oh, wait-" Max said quietly, then turned and called, "Superball!" The man stopped and looked back at once. "Sam and I are gonna be out of town for a while after this. Ya' think you can keep my seat warm 'til then?"

"Of course, sir. Have a nice trip."

"Alright, later!" While Superball continued to make his leave, they continued to make their way towards Sybil.

When they got to the room, they could see Sybil laying in the bed, holding her baby in her arms, while Papierwaite sat in a chair nearby, clearly having kept to his word that he'd keep Sybil safe.

With his free hand, Sam tapped his knuckles against the doorframe, making both of them look over at him and Max quickly. "Knock, knock."

Sybil stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth agape, as if she had seen a ghost (which, he supposed, technically she did), before turning to Papierwaite and saying, "Hold him." The man did so at once, and as soon as he did, Sybil beckoned Sam over. "Come here! Come over here-"

Sam willingly let go of Max's hand and went right towards her, and the lady wrapped her arms around his neck while he hugged her in return.

"God, I'm so glad you're safe," she murmured. She pulled away, and placed a hand on the side of his cone. "What the hell happened back there?"

Unsure if right now was a good time to bring up the explosions and death, he simply replied, "It's a long story."

"Well, you'll have to tell me sometime," she said, patting his shoulder. She then looked over towards Max, and said, "Hey, you come over here, too!"

As Max approached, he lifted up the basket of goodies and said, "A gift! For the new mama and baby."

"Aww, thank you!" Max placed it next to the bed before standing up again, and hugging her as well. "I've missed you so much..."

“Missed ya’ too, Syb!” He pulled away to look at her with a raised brow, and said, “Seriously, next time ya’ take off for a while like that, give us a call! How’re we supposed t’ envy your trips t’ the tropics otherwise?”

“Believe me - you were  _ not _ missing much,” she replied with a laugh. “...Wanna hold him?” Referring to her newborn bab-

“ _ Yes please. _ ” With a look from Sybil, Papierwaite handed the bundle to the lagomorph, who took him carefully. He looked down at the baby boy in his arms, who was looking up at him with wide, green eyes. “Oh my God...he’s adorable…”

Sam had knelt down to try and get a look at him as well, a smile appearing on his features. “What’s his name?” he asked.

“George,” Sybil replied, and gave a knowing smile when Sam looked her way. “But I might just call him Georgie.”

“Good choice. Wish I thought of it,” he jokingly said, earning a small laugh. The dog then stood up and looked over at Papierwaite and Yog-Soggoth - who had poked out shortly after he heard the Freelance Police talking. "You're still here," he commented.

"As I told you," Papierwaite replied, "She is in safe hands - as is your roach friend and scanner.” He gestured towards Carol and the baby cockroach, both of which were on another chair. “Besides, with the museum in a wreck, there was not much other option."

"Fair enough."

"So," Yog-Soggoth spoke, "You managed to reverse the process after all."

"Took a li'l extra effort, but yeah."

"And I got these cool spots and teeth now!" Max added, flashing his new needle-like teeth with a smile.

"Well, that was to be expected," the Old God stated. "Even if we had reversed it early, your original appearance would not have been fully recovered. In any case, they are only minor changes - you shall find that there are more alterations on the  _ inside _ than out."

The lagomorph's smile faded, and the dog and woman stared at him. "...What?" Sybil said.

"...Did I fail to mention that previously?"

"Yeah, ya' did," Sam said. "Big time."

"...Oops."

"Wait, what sorta  _ 'alterations' _ are we talkin' about here?" Max asked. "Like am I even  _ cooler _ on the inside or is it, like, super lame?"

"I suppose that judgement will be left up to you. In any case, you shall at least find it beneficial."

"Can I...breathe fire?"

"...No."

"Then what's the  _ point? _ "

"News about Max's increasingly strange biology aside," Sam said, shaking his head a bit, "We didn't just come here t' show proof of life and see the new one that's been brought into this world."

"Oh?" Sybil tilted her head slightly. "What's up?"

"Max and I are gonna take a vacation of our own. Head outta the city for a bit."

"Aw, for how long?"

"Long enough for things t' get a li'l cleaned up around here."

"Well, don't be a stranger, alright? Make sure to call when you get the chance."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Max gave a quiet gasp of awe. "Oh, he's got li'l rock arms, Sam!"

. . .

Eventually they had taken off from the hospital and got back on track to heading to their apartment, taking a taxi right to it. After Max assisted Sam in getting out, they entered the half-wrecked building.

"We're gonna fit the essentials into a suitcase and put whatever we can salvage into boxes, okay?" Sam said as they walked in.

"Sounds like a plan, Sam!"

Just as they were walking past the large hole in the lobby floor, a moleman poked his head out of the floor and gasped delightfully upon seeing them, startling them both. "You've arrived!" he exclaimed, the other moleman poking his head out. "At long last, you've arrived!"

"Hey, Jebidiah," the dog greeted casually as the Boxist climbed out with a look of sheer joy, assisting his fellow moleman out. "I see you've gotten back t' your home, safe and sound."

"Ah, yes," Obediah replied. "We are both here, and we are both fine."

"Ehh, sorry about, y'know, destroyin' the whole symbol of your religion," Max said.

"It shall be quite the adjustment to make, but we are not worried. If anything, we are relieved to no longer bear the burden of protecting it."

"There is only so many of us left," Jebidiah explained. "Only so many that could continue to protect it."

"What do you guys plan t' do now?" Sam inquired.

"Eh, we are still figuring it out," Obediah said. "Though, it would be nice to finally move out of the hole we are living in. It gets so dusty down there, I tell you."

"Amen t' that," Max commented.

"We should really let you be on your way now. Your time for speaking with us is, for all intents and purposes, up."

The dog nodded, and said with the utmost sincerity, "Thank you. For everything. We wouldn't have gotten through this without your guys' help."

“Oh, no need to thank us,” Jebidiah said with a wave. “Ultimately, it was you who paved the road. We just simply put you in the right direction.”

“Go well, Eidolon and Devil Bunny,” Obediah said with a bow of his head.

“You too,” Sam replied. “Take care.” With that, the molemen returned to the underground, with the duo heading up the stairs, being cautious of any that may have been destroyed between the mini-quake Skun-ka’pe had caused with his ship and the damage caused by Maxthulu.

Eventually, they managed to get up to their office, and Sam pushed open the door, and upon seeing the wrecked state the apartment was in, Max’s eyes went wide. “Whoa…”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Just, uh - be careful of the giant gaping hole in the middle of the floor.”

Of course, that prompted Max to go right to it, getting to his knees to look down in it, and see their couch still down there after this whole time. “Jeez...ya’ should’ve told me about this sooner.”

“Well, with everything goin’ on, I guess it slipped my mind.”

It was clear by Sam’s tone that he thought Max had meant something different than what the lagomorph had intended. Sam almost sounded as if he supposed Max thought the destruction was cool - which, in a way, he did - but Max would confess that he was feeling a twinge of guilt at seeing the ruined apartment. He still recalled Sam calling him at the White House, saying that there was something important - and now he was realizing that the dog was likely trying to tell him about the apartment.

Now he was realizing Sam could’ve died then, and the last thing he ever said to him was-

“Hey,” Sam said quietly, putting a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder which snapped him out of his stupor. “Are you okay?”

The lagomorph placed a hand over his boyfriend’s, remaining silent for a moment before looking up at Sam’s concerned face, and giving a reassuring smile. “Let’s just grab our crap and get outta here, yeah? Last thing I need is for ya’ breakin’ somethin’ else.”

“Sounds like a plan t’ me. ‘Cause last thing  _ I _ want is t’ keep this stupid cone on longer than I have to.” Max gave a laugh at that, and the dog smiled before removing his hand from his shoulder and moving on to do what they came here to do. Max spared one last glance down the hole before getting up and following suit.

They did as they said they would - they stuck the essentials, such as clothes and their toothbrushes, in a battered but still intact suitcase they found, and they managed to find some boxes that could hold some of the things they could salvage from the wreck. Mostly, though, it was just the random things they had collected and kept in the office - the dartboard, the plant they kept, some of Max’s vintage posters (he could only find a few - Sam apologized for his loss and promised to try and get ahold of more for him) among other things.

The thing that had caught Max’s attention, however, was when he was digging through the drawer to Sam’s desk and found the old photos and drawings in there. The drawings  _ especially _ surprised him.

“You  _ kept _ these?” Max asked as he pulled one out and examined the crayon scribbles, which seemed slightly distorted, as if something had been accidentally spilled on it.

Sam stopped what he was doing and glanced over. “Yeah, of course,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno, I guess I just didn’t figure you…”

“...Cared?”

The lagomorph looked up at him quickly upon him saying that, and though there was no look of hurt or offense on Sam’s expression, Max still found himself shaking his head and saying, “I’m sorry. We’re about t’ go on a vacation, I shouldn’t even be thinkin’ like that-”

“Hey, look, Max-” Sam approached his partner, which made his ears droop slightly, and knelt down to place both hands on his upper arms. “The last thing I wanna do is have us act like everything’s just... _ miraculously _ better now, okay? ‘Cause the facts just are that I said and did things-”

“ _ We _ said and did things,” Max corrected.

“-and just ‘cause we realize we did doesn’t automatically mean we won’t anymore.” He removed a hand to instinctively rub the back of his neck, though all he succeeded in doing was rubbing the cone instead. “So I guess what I’m tryin’ t’ tell ya’ is...don’t feel like you’re not... _ allowed _ t’ be upset by things anymore...just ‘cause we’re together again, yeah? Figurin’ things out from here’s gonna be a process, and...well, it’s gonna have t’ be somethin’ we figure out together.”

The lagomorph stared blankly at him with those pink eyes of his, before abandoning the picture back in the drawer to hug Sam, burying his face in the dog’s shoulder. “God, I love you,” he said, his words muffled.

“I love ya’ too, li’l buddy.” Pause. “...Want me t’ pack up the drawings, too?”

“Mhm.”

Sam gave a gentle chuckle. “Alright. Will do.”

. . .

Eventually, they finished packing up their things, and Max decided to be the one to bring the boxes down to the lobby area while Sam stood with the suitcase in hand. "Alright," Max eventually said, "They're down here now."

"Perfect," Sam said. "Dad's probably gonna be here soon enough, I reckon." He then added lightheartedly, "With the sun goin' down, I reckon we could take a nap on the way there."

"Crashin' sounds good after all o' this- hey, Flint Paper!"

The dog's ears perked, and he followed Max's gaze out of the cracked lobby window to see the man entering the diner nearby. "'Ey, there he is!"

"We should probably tell him we're goin', too."

"Think the boxes will be safe in here?"

"If someone's comin' into a busted building just t' nab some random junk, then they've got a pretty sad life."

"Fair enough."

They went over and entered the diner's half-repaired door, and upon entering, they heard Flint say, "...Need a statement from ya' about what happened with Skun-ka'pe back there."

He was speaking to Girl Stinky, who had her arms crossed, her expression as unreadable as ever - and looking pretty well put together for someone who was also a victim of a ship crash. "I suspect you already have your own theory, detective?" she said.

"Well, as far as my eyes could see, it looked like you were goin' t' throw your grandpa disguised as one of the general's goons over the ledge and ya' got caught."

"Then clearly you don't have all of the facts."

"And what are the facts, miss Stinky?"

"Skun-ka'pe was manipulating me. Making me participate in things I didn't wish to. He made me sit and listen as he massacred a group of innocent dog clones. He was clearly a dangerous guy, so I was trying to get away-"

Sam's brows furrowed at hearing the conversation, able to see right through Stinky's manipulation - selectively giving information to make herself seem like a victim. However, she wasn't lying at all...though Flint may not be able to guess that.

"Sam?" Max asked quietly, having noticed the dog's expression, running a thumb lightly over his knuckles.

Sam didn't respond, but rather he let go of Max's hand and started approaching the detective, putting on a smile and saying, "Hey, Flint!"

Flint turned around quickly, surprised, but smiled as well upon seeing his old friend. "Hey, Sam-o! Whatcha doin' here at this hour?"

"Waitin' up on my old man. Max and I are takin' a trip up t' their place for a bit." He then gave a nod towards the girl, who didn't react, and said, "Back at it with her, are ya'?"

"Eh, just tryin' t' get the whole story, that's all."

Sam hummed, putting his hands in his pockets. "I reckon she's bein' honest this time."

Flint blinked at the statement, then turned to face him fully with a raised, mildly suspicious brow. "What makes ya' say that?"

"I was there with her on Skunkape's ship." He noticed Stinky raise a brow as well, but paid no mind to it as he continued, "He had her chained up and was takin' off with her. Probably was gonna hurt her if somethin' wasn't done about it."

The man continued to eye Sam over for any hint of deceit. However, he would find none, and he would figure that some part of it had to be true, having been there to see the dog come back from the dead. So he sighed through his nose and said, "Then I suppose that's that. General Skun-ka'pe was using Stinky against her will-" He looked over at her. "-And you were merely defendin' yourself. And since Skun-ka'pe was found dead this mornin' and none of his crew has been seen since, there's nothin' t' dispute it."

"Great job, detective," Stinky stated sarcastically. "Another case solved by you."

"Hey, don't think that just 'cause you're in the clear now doesn't mean I won't be around in the future. You behave yourself, now." She merely hummed in response.

After a brief moment of silence, Max cleared his throat, getting the others' attention. "Y'know, Flint," he said, "We got a li'l bit t' catch up on before Sam's pops gets here."

"Y'know what, fuzzy pal? You're right..." And just like that, Flint went off to speak with Max, leaving Sam and Stinky relatively alone.

"...I didn't need your help," she said quietly, making the dog look over at her.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I figured it was the least I could do considerin' this is the second time I've caused ya' t' crash in the same spaceship."

"...Touché."

"Where's your old man? Did he-?"

"He's in the kitchen, cleaning up."

"Ah, so you've gone back on this whole 'killing him' thing, have ya'."

"No clue what you're talking about."

"'Course ya' don't."

"Did you only come in here to be my knight in  _ plastic _ armour, or is there a reason you came in here?"

"Actually...yeah. I kinda did wanna see you," Sam admitted. "I wanna thank you for what ya' decided t' do back on that ship. I mean, without you,  _ Max _ would've been the one splattered on the pavement."

Stinky remained quiet for a moment, staring at him with bored eyes, before finally glancing down. "Whatever," she murmured. "Don't mention it."

There was a brief pause between them. "And, uh-" She looked back up at him again. "I...spoke t' Sal before he...y'know. And he, um...he said he wished he could've seen ya' again. And that he..." Sal never did finish his sentence, unfortunately, so Sam simply filled in the gap with, "He missed you."

She blinked at his words, actually appearing a little taken aback, her brows furrowing. However, that look of shock vanished with a sigh, but she didn't say anything. Sam couldn't say he blamed her - they weren't friends. He wasn't sure what they were, but they certainly weren't friends. All he was doing was passing on a message from a good man's (or cockroach, rather) last words.

In the midst of their silence, Sam felt the baby cockroach crawl to his shoulder. A thought occurred to him which made his ears perk, and he said, "Here." He gently took the roach off of his shoulder, and placed him onto the counter.

Stinky gave it a confused look. "...What the hell is this for?"

"I dunno. Company, I suppose. I figure if there's ever a better home for a li'l cockroach like this, it'd be here."

Before the girl could even respond, there was the not-so distant sound of a car honking, and shortly after, Max was saying, "Oh hey, he's here!"

Sam tugged at the collar of his shirt (since he lacked a tie to readjust still) and said, "I suppose that's our cue, then."

"Mind if I see ya' off, fellas?" Flint asked.

"'Course not! C'mon, lets go." As the three exited the diner, Sam called over his shoulder and said, "Later, Stinky!"

The Rusalka watched them as they left with half-lidded eyes, up until the door shut. She then turned her gaze from them to the cockroach left on the counter, who seemed to squeak as soon as she looked at him, waving his antennae as if they had caught a slight breeze. With a quiet sigh through her nose, she held out her hand, allowing him to skitter up to her shoulder, and then turned to go into the kitchen to check in with her grandfather.

As the three were approaching the vehicle that had pulled up, the driver - a grey-furred Irish Wolfhound that had a moustache and a pipe in his mouth - was stepping out to greet them, only to pause and stare at them for a moment. He then removed the pipe with furrowed brows and asked, "What in the damned name of the devil himself happened t' you boys?"

Sam, Max and Flint all glanced at each other - looking at their banged up and odd-looking selves - and when they looked back at Sam's father, Sam simply said, "It's been a long week."

"Yeah, I sure as hell would say." He gestured to his son with his pipe, and said, "You're gonna get an earful from yer mother, y'know that, right?"

Sam merely shrugged. "I know."

His father hummed, then eyed the suitcase in his hand. "'S that all yer bringin'?"

"Actually, we've got a few boxes in there," Max said, pointing behind him towards their apartment. "I could give ya' a hand-"

"Eh, nonsense, boy, I'll get it. You two just wait in the car." The older dog then walked past them and towards the building.

As he did so, Flint said to him, "Nice seein' ya', Mr. Barkley!"

"Paper," he grumbled in return.

"What a nice guy," the man said with complete sincerity. He then turned to his friends with a sigh, and said, "Guess this is where I leave ya'. Things are gonna be slow with you two headin' out."

"Well, you can't have  _ too _ much fun without us, now can ya'?" Max joked.

Flint laughed, kneeling down to the lagomorph's level. "Nope." He then pulled Max into a one-armed hug. "Guess not." After a brief moment, he pulled away, stood up and did the same with Sam.

"Catch ya' later, Flint," the dog said.

"Stay outta trouble, alright? I mean it this time."

Sam pulled away with a smile and said, "I promise - no shenanigans until I get back."

"Good." Flint returned the smile and patted his shoulder once. "See ya' guys later." With that, the detective shoved his good hand in his pocket, and took off towards the sidewalk.

Sam and Max watched him walk away for a moment or two, before Sam looked down at his partner. "Ready t' go, li'l buddy?" He offered his hand.

Max flashed him a wide, sharp-toothed grin. "With you, Sam?" He placed his hand in the dog's, whose hand practically swallowed his own just from how small it was compared to Sam's. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total stats of writing this story:  
> 3 months, 19 days to write (March 20th - July 9th)  
> 162,680 words total (including chapter titles)  
> 523 pages total.
> 
> For those who don't already know, Another Way was initially created via a loophole I had discovered in The Devil's Playhouse that, had it played out, could've prevented the ending that had occurred in it - which involved Sam intercepting the Maimtron using Skun-ka'pe's ship, much like how it played out in Chapter 22. Of course, as my co-writer and I got to building on this story, we realized there were many other alternative angles that could have been taken in the story of The Devil's Playhouse - and since translating a video game into a story like this requires taking a lot of artistic liberties anyway, what initially started as a loophole became a plot big enough to write in its entirety - and so I decided to write it.
> 
> This story was never intended to be as large of a project as it became. It was originally intended to be nothing more than just something for me to work on the side. However, due to the fact that quarantine was announced not all that long into my March Break, it ended up becoming my main focus and my most ambitious project ever. I remember there was a point where I was surprised to have even made it 100 pages. Now, that seems like forever ago. And honestly, writing this has shown me so much as a writer, and I am so very proud of not only the finished product but the fact that the product got finished at all. I tend to have a very nasty habit of not finishing what I start, but with the official completion of this project, I feel like I could take on the world.
> 
> I'd like to take some time to now give special thanks to my grandparents and my father, all of which have supported me during this large writing process and have been willing to listen to my excited rambling (and to my friends, who did just that and put up with the long bouts of silence from me lmao). But most importantly, I'd like to thank Callie once again for everything they have done during my time with writing this. I will never stop saying how they are the reason this got finished at all. Their enthusiasm in talking about various ideas and scenes as well as reading my work is what motivated me to see through to the end. I appreciate them taking the time to read through it all, as well as give suggestions on how to make a scene just a little better, or even just correcting me on a grammatical error. They've helped me greatly and I will never be able to thank them enough for it.
> 
> I'd also like to thank every single one of you that has read through this, and has followed every update, commented, left a kudos - all of it. It always means so, so much to me to see all of the positive feedback and to see that it's being enjoyed.
> 
> Now that Another Way is over, I just ask one favour of you: I'd appreciate it if you could check out Gone to the Dogs (and Rabbits), which is now available to read! It's a sequel to this fic so if you're interested in seeing more of this version of Sam & Max, I'd strongly suggest you check it out!
> 
> Again, thank you to every single one of you for being a part of my biggest project yet, and you can expect to see me with more Sam and Max content soon.
> 
> -Kira


End file.
